


Roads to Recovery

by Valkyrie69



Series: See No Evil - Hear No Evil [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Blow Jobs, Canon Divergence - post Swan Song, Curtain Fic, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Nightmares, Oral Sex, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychic Bond, Shower Sex, Soulmates, family fic, pie kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-02-12
Packaged: 2018-09-20 19:01:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 86,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9507785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Valkyrie69/pseuds/Valkyrie69
Summary: Dean is back in the game (and what games he is planning to play). Sam is ecstatic (in many more ways than one).Lisa and Ben can't wait to get the boys more involved in their lives (and in Lisa's case...other things).But all is not well.....yet.The Road to Recovery is long and hard and potholed, but there's new light at the horizon.





	1. FEAR

**Author's Note:**

> As always - I would be mindless, powerless and wordless without the constant cheerful support and invaluable corrections from my dear friend and master beta 36and40, who keeps me honest and true, makes me think and learn every day and is as much responsible for these chapters as I am.  
> THANK YOU!
> 
> I don't own any of the characters....I just love to play with them.
> 
> Comments are a writers lifeblood and I'd love to hear from anyone.

 

 

Dean wakes up slowly, groggily, like floating to the surface of a murky pond, contours of everything above and below fuzzy around the edges. _Hhm, floating again, know that feeling…._

His heart rate ramps up without warning. _Something’s_ _wrong._ But he can’t quite free himself from sleep yet. _This isn’t right!_ He tosses on the bed, his face burying into a soft patch of…. _SAM._ He stills, takes a deep breath and lets the familiar scent fill his lungs and his head.

_Sam, Sammy, back with him, back together, Sam’s ok. I’m ok._

Dean’s mind clears and he takes a moment to let the smell soothe him, surround him, calm him. He slowly relaxes on the bed and finally blinks open his eyes. 

It’s bright outside, middle of the day by the looks of it. Dean rolls over, arches his back and stretches, then rubs his face with both hands.

“Sam?” he calls out, voice still a little ragged, but getting more familiar to his own ears.

No answer.

_Must be downstairs then. Should’ve woken me up…we’ve could’ve gone for round three…or four? Well, he’ll be back soon…_

 

Dean smiles to himself when he thinks back on last night. Sam all over him. Sam’s lips and hands and tongue and teeth taking him on a ride he never could have imagined in his wildest dreams. Love and comfort and pleasure so profound his mind was still reeling from it. He shakes his head a little and scratches his belly.

 _‘Jesus, how had this all happened? Who would have ever thought Sam would end up **with** me? Lisa, too. Hell, Sam **and** Lisa together for that matter. And Ben. This is going to take some serious getting used to and…..arranging….juggling?’_

Dean has been without any serious relationship for so long, it doesn’t even really bother him anymore. It used to be Sam and him and Dad, then Sam and him and sometimes Bobby or Sam and him and Cas. In the end as in the beginning it had been Sam and him at the center, always. _That_ was what mattered, _that_ is what he can’t imagine himself living without.

But when the chips were down and it looked like there wasn’t any but the slimmest chance of survival and the biggest probability that Sam would be gone – for good, he had found himself drawn powerfully back to Lisa and Ben.

Ever since their short encounter on the Changeling case a couple a years back he’d thought of them often. They’d become his Avalon, the unattainable island, an elusive ideal of a family that he knew he could never completely fit into. So instead he’d somehow managed to think of them as the reason why his job and existence were important and made a difference in the world.

Lisa, Ben and Sam were his reasons to live, the reasons to fight the good fight, kick as many evil sonsofbitches in the ass as he could and never give up….until Stull.

And _that_ he realizes now had been the threat of losing Sammy again, being without him. Even though, he had promised Sam to make a go of it with Lisa and Ben and he had gone to Stull with every intention of honoring his brother’s wishes. When push came to shove, he hadn’t been strong enough to let him go, couldn’t face the idea of a life without his little brother. Had given up and rolled over, had rather disconnected from life than stayed behind alone.

Sure, it hadn’t been easy or smooth between them all the time. Hell, he’d been so fucking angry with the little shit so many times and for so many reasons, he can’t even remember them all, but at the core he’d never _not_ loved him, never _wanted_ to be apart from him. Not when Sam left for Stanford; not when Sam told him he didn’t want to stay in this life; not when Sam followed Ruby down the dark road to addiction; not when he had told Sam that he was a monster and he never wanted him back; not ever; not really.

_“And now, here I am, back from Zombieland, in the house of the woman I want to be with, and more connected to my brother than I ever thought possible.”_

A bone-deep chill runs through Dean as something dark and sinister rears up in the back of his mind.

_Too good to be true….has to be! Winchester luck doesn’t run this way. This can’t really be permanent, right? Not meant to be something to build a future on?_

His stomach tightens and the tiny hairs on the back of his neck start to rise. Something isn’t right. 

“SAM?” he calls again, louder this time, a slow dull terror building in his gut.

_Too good to be true….he knows it!_

Dean swings his legs out of bed and fishes on the floor for his boxers and jeans. Grabbing a random shirt from the end of the bed, he strides onto the landing outside their room and calls once more, almost shouting now. “Sammy? U here?”

No answer.

_He’s not here! He left! Hadn’t Lisa said something about him planning to leave? He’d done it before. Probably thought better of it all. Back to the original plan? Dean and Lisa – no Sam? NO SAM._

Dean feels the anxiety and dread rise quickly now and threaten to overwhelm him.

 _Fear_ as powerful as he only experiences when Sam’s life is in danger courses through his body, sending a jolt of adrenaline close behind that has him for immediate action. He feels both acutely aware of everything around him as well as numb in anticipation of impending doom. 

He grabs for the banister and squeezes the smooth wood hard for a moment, breathing harshly and hearing his own blood rush through his ears, a fine layer of sweat covering his body, muscles tensing, hands shaking.

_OK, man, get a FUCKING grip! What are you – a ten year old girl? First time alone at home? Sam’s probably out back raking leaves or in the basement doing laundry or some other domestic shit. (Or he’s racing down the blacktop away from you as fast as he can)_

He forces himself to walk slowly down the stairs and open the front door to check outside. “Sam?”

_Impala’s not in the drive way! He HAS left!_

A wild wave of panic crashes over him and makes it hard to think straight. He stands in the open door, staring wide-eyed up and down the road. _Nothing._

He slams the door shut and stands dumbfounded in the hallway for a moment, trying desperately to focus. His chest feels constricted, he can’t get enough air. He’s gasping.

_‘Sam’s gone. Now what? Why would he do that? Why wouldn't he’ve said something first? He did act funny yesterday, when Lisa brought it up. LISA! He probably still feels bad about that. Didn’t I make it clear enough that it’s ok? Did I push him away somehow? I thought he got it. He seemed to believe me. He wanted this, too, right? Was he just trying to tell me what I wanted to hear?’_

Faster and faster his thoughts are spinning in ever tightening circles.

_Want Sam, can’t lose Sam, have to find Sam, need to call Sam. Call Sam…wait…!_

Dean closes his eyes and takes a deliberate and slow breath. In and out, In and out. Trying to get his muddled thoughts under control.

_‘Calm the FUCK down, Winchester. This is beyond stupid. Let’s just call Sam and figure it out. It’s probably nothing…’_

He feels his heart rate slow a little and the dizziness of his panic attack receding slightly.

 _'I can’t call him like this! Losing my shit like a whimpering coward. What’m I gonna say? Beg him to come home. Hold my hand? Stay with me? Yeah, real mature.’_ He snorts disgusted with himself. ‘ _I need a fucking drink! Get my head screwed back on right and figure this out.’_

He starts for the kitchen, where Lisa normally keeps a bottle of bourbon on the high shelf above the stove.

As soon as he enters the sunny room he spots the large tented piece of yellow paper standing on the kitchen table and recognizes Sam’s hand writing instantly before he can even make out the words. Dean practically runs to the table and grabs the note.

“Out on beer run, back in 20. DON’T GO ANYWHERE! Not done with you. S.”

It was written on both sides of the little paper tent, so there was no chance of it being missed when entering the kitchen from either of its two doors. 

Dean feels the tension and fear drop out of his stomach to his feet and melt into the floor in a rush, leaving him weak with relief and trembling violently. 

_OF COURSE….beer run, out shoppin….no fucking drama….just life._

He reads the note again, once, twice, just to make sure.

“Jesus Fucking Christ! Almost gave myself a freakin’ heart attack.” Dean curses the empty room.

He grabs the bottle of Bourbon and a glass out of the cabinet and sinks into one of the kitchen chairs, pouring himself a double with shaking hands.

_‘Nice one, man! Freaking out like a little bitch, just because your brother left you alone for half an hour. HOLY CRAP! What’s wrong with me. Can’t be a wuss like this. What is he gonna think?’_

Dean takes a deep gulp and lets the amber liquid burn comfortingly down his throat and blossom warm in his stomach.

_Why was he so….scared? No…worried? What? Did he really think Sam would up and leave him…now? NO, not really. Sam had fought too hard to get him back. What then? Was this simply leftover PTSD?_

He empties the glass with another large slug, enjoys the wave of lightheadedness following the swallow.

He lets their conversations from last night and this morning play again in his mind, but can’t see any reason for his panicked state of mind.  He is sure this was not a one-sided adventure. Everything they’d exchanged in the last 24 hours feels real and good and solid to him. There hadn’t been any half-truths, no diversion or manipulation. He’s convinced of it.

He pours another double and rolls the glass between his calloused hands, thinking back.

_‘It’s more what Sam said before…the impending Apocalypse and the Luci-Mike prize fight. He was so hell-bent on me going after Lisa, living a normal life and having a family. Has he just let go of this? We are at her house after all. Obviously he thought she could help. So, does he think he’s done his job now, needs to bow out and let Lisa and me get on with it?’_

Dean feels his nerves tingling again and quickly takes another sip of his bourbon, welcoming the slow-seeping fuzziness spreading from his gut to his limbs.

_‘DAMN, this stuff is working fast…guess, I’m not used to it anymore.’_

But his mind is clear enough to admit the truth of the matter. He knows exactly how stubborn Sam is. If his mind is set on Dean and Lisa patching it up and he thinks the only way to guarantee that is to leave them alone, he won’t hesitate. Not for the purpose of leaving Dean, but to force him to be happy, reconnect with what he had been looking for before Stull.

But things have changed. At least for Dean they have.

 _Yes,_ he still wants Lisa. There is no doubt in his mind about that. She is one of the most amazingly kind and incredibly strong people he has ever known. He can’t even begin to rack up a tally of all she has done for him…for them. And as if her own hotness isn’t enough by a mile to make him want her, Lisa’s newly developed relationship and obvious appreciation for his brother, strangely turns up the heat for Dean tenfold.

 _But,_ he also wants Sam. More than ever. Closer than ever. In ways he never thought he could have him.

He isn't willing to give that up either.

Sam brought him back and showed him a whole new side to their relationship. But Lisa anchored him before in ways he didn’t even realize until now. They were _both_ intricate parts of his life. And he had a rare opportunity here to build something altogether _new_ ….with _both_ of them. 

_‘I can’t let Sam make any decisions for me. I’m back and I need to take charge of this! Kick it in the Ass. Not be a needy, broken, whiny little bitch! Need to show them BOTH that this can work. Or at least that I wanna try to make it work.’_

Dean feels a new resolve slowly infuse him. Hope and confidence radiate out from his heart and warm his whole body – _or is that the bourbon working through his stomach? Who cares?_

He lets his mind drift a little and a small smile starts tugging at his lips.

_‘Yeah, that’s it. And how awesome that they obviously like each other already…should be a piece of cake then, right?’_

Sam _and_ Lisa. _Sam_ and _Lisa. Hhhhmmm!_

He relaxes into the chair and a series of images he cannot possibly ignore start to rise in his mind’s eye: Lisa’s dark hair tumbling over naked shoulders; Sam’s strong arms holding her gently around the waist, hands sliding up her back; Lisa’s full lips slightly open and eyes fluttering shut on a low moan, her hand snaking up behind Sam’s neck grabbing a fistful of his hair; Sam’s tongue tracing her collarbone and over the pulse in her neck, then closing and sucking hard; Lisa’s soft hand wrapping tightly around Dean’s cock stroking firmly; Sam’s eyes boring into Dean’s as he sets his teeth into Lisa’s shoulder, nipping and scraping gently; Lisa’s lips brushing over Dean’s nipple, tongue following suit, lapping at his chest; Sam’s hand gliding down Dean’s stomach, joining Lisa’s hand on his cock; Dean lifting Lisa to….

“Dean?”

 _FUCK!_ He jumps up off the chair and almost drops the glass in his hand at the voice behind him.

Sam walks backwards into the kitchen carrying several full grocery bags and kicks the door shut behind him.

“Good, you’re up. I didn’t want to wake you, so….” he trails off as he sees Dean standing next to his chair, whiskey sloshing over his hand and dripping onto the tile floor and a mix of guild and anxiety written all over his flushed face.

He hurriedly puts the bags on the counter and approaches Dean.

“U ok, Dean?” Sam slowly puts his hands on his brother’s shoulders and squeezes softly.

Dean’s head is spinning slightly from the bourbon and the erotic slideshow his brain had just treated him to and feels his traitorous semi slowly softening in his jeans.

“Yeah, fine.” he lies, voice cracking like gravel under a tire, but Sam can see right through him. Dean’s eyes are too wide and too green and the hand wrapped too tightly around the bourbon tumbler is shaking slightly.

Sam gently takes the glass out of Dean’s hand and sets in on the table.

“Hey, sorry, I didn’t wanna freak you out.” he starts uncertainly, not sure how to interpret Dean’s flustered state.

“Not freaking out!” Dean shoots back, too quickly, too loudly, but then takes a slow breath as Sam stares first at him and then the whiskey glass on the table with narrowed eyes. 

“Really, Sammy, ‘m fine…. _now._ ” His shoulders slump slightly and he wipes his hand on his jeans to get rid of the spilled liquor.  “Just…didn’t find your note right away….so I….was a little…uuhm….worried….”

 _‘SHIT!’_ Sam’s brain fires. ‘ _Should’ve left the note upstairs. Dean woke up and couldn’t find me. Probably thought I ran out on him. AGAIN. Holy fuck! I’m such an idiot.’_

Sam swallows hard. “Hey, man, I am _so_ sorry. Didn’t mean to worry you. We just needed beer, so I thought I’d make a quick supply run and leave you sleeping.”

Dean nods tightly, but isn't looking convinced in the slightest, eyes intently searching Sam’s face for clues.

“’K, yeah, whatever. Next time do me a favor and wake me up. I slept enough in the few last weeks. Rather be….I…wanna….just wake me, ok?” Dean’s voice is gruff with emotion.

Seeing Sam in front of him, healthy and whole, _of course_ , makes him angry at himself for being so weak all over again.

“Yeah, yes, I promise. I’m sorry, Dean. Won’t happen again.” He looks at his brother closely and can see that something’s still bothering Dean. But he knows him well enough to know that Dean won’t bring it up.

“Better believe it.” Dean grumbles, but avoids his brother’s eyes now and bends down instead to wipe up the spilled whiskey and then take the towel to the sink.

Sam feels horrible about being the cause of Dean’s distress. Remembering the piercing look Dean gave him yesterday at the mention of Sam’s leaving, he knows that he has to find a way to set Dean’s mind at ease somehow. Make him believe that he isn’t going anywhere.

He steps up behind his brother and slides his arms around his waist carefully, not wanting to startle him.

Dean stiffens for a moment and Sam holds perfectly still, letting Dean make up his mind. Finally and with a contented sigh Dean lets himself relax against the warm, solid mass at his back that is Sam and he rubs his hands back and forth over his brother’s strong forearms absentmindedly.

Sam rests his chin on the other’s shoulder and nuzzles his nose into the little soft hollow behind Dean’s ear.

"Uhm, Dean?”

“HM?”

“You _know_ I’m not gonna disappear on you, right?” Sam asks in a soft tone.

“What? Yeah, sure.” But Dean’s voice is all of a sudden tight with apprehension and his jaw clenches so hard that Sam can hear his teeth grinding. ~~~~

“I _wanna_ be here. _With_ you. I swear.” Sam continues in the same quiet but sincere tone as he tightens his arms around Dean’s torso. “I won’t leave until you tell me to, ‘k?”

“I won’t.” Dean’s answer comes bullet quick. “Tell you, I mean. Never again.” _(Didn’t really mean it last time. Don’t want to exist without you, can’t – didn’t I prove that already?)_

Sam still doesn’t like the elder Winchester’s tone or attitude, needs to see his face to judge what else is going on here. Sam lets his hands travel to Dean’s hips and slowly turns him around in his arms. He studies his beautiful, familiar face for a long moment seeing a myriad of emotions playing in his brother’s clear, green eyes – hope, suspicion, distress, love and determination – all rushing by like watching a carousel spin. Sam’s heart twists painfully at the show of his brother’s feelings that he won’t or can’t put into words.

_Jesus, man, believe me already. I love you and won’t ever let you go anymore….not til I’m dead._

“Good! ‘Cause you’re stuck with me, no matter what. I need you to believe me.” Sam’s hands travel up frame the other’s face between them and then he leans in and plants the softest of kisses on his brother’s gorgeous mouth. Dean sighs involuntarily and grabs onto Sam’s biceps. Sam kisses him again, just the slightest bit more pressure on Dean’s full lips.

“I won’t go anywhere….”, Another kiss chasing the last, slow and sweet. “…unless it’s necessary.”

He murmurs, meaning to reassure.

Dean sucks in a sharp breath and his hands close like claws painfully on Sam’s arms and then he shoves him, sudden and hard enough that Sam staggers back a step and lets go of Dean completely.

“Oh no, you don’t.” Dean growls as his face clouds over with anger like a swiftly approaching summer storm. “You’re not getting to do that.”

“Do _what_?” Sam blinks genuinely confused. “Dean?”

“Say that – leave the back door open for _your_ interpretation.”  Dean states firmly, voice tight with strain again.

“I didn’t.” Sam protests, eyes wide in surprise.

“Yes, you did. I can hear your brain working, Sam. This is _not_ a decision _you_ can make without me!” Dean’s nostrils flare and his eyes glitter dangerously. “I told you this is _it_ for me. I’m all in. And I _mean it._ You don’t get to decide if something else is for _best for me.”_

“I won’t, I swear. I’m totally with you. That’s not what I meant.” Sam takes a step towards Dean, lifting his hands, palms forward and open in supplication. “Listen to me, ok?”

“What the _fuck_ are you going on about then?” Dean’s fury is palpable. “What _exactly_ would make it _necessary_ for you to go…..if not some _fucked up_ idea that I need space or a break or to find myself or whatever?” Dean can feel his unease sink another hook into him, but now he is panicking at the idea that he’ll come over as needy and weak. He averts his eyes quickly tilting his chin down and stares at the floor, taking a steadying breath.

“Sam, _you_ don’t get to decide _for_ me if I need something changed, ok?” he says quietly in a rough voice.

Sam’s brain is desperately trying to follow Dean’s way of thinking.

“Dean, I….I…, please. I didn’t mean that I would _go_ anywhere to get _away_ from you.” He takes a tentative step towards Dean, ducking his head slightly, trying to get a better look at his face. “I just meant, like, shopping or errands or a hunt or research or whatever else _always_ made it necessary for us to split here and there, ok?”

_Well, shit….that made perfect sense….FUCK, he was such an idiot! Overreact much?! Why hadn’t he just shut up!? Why the fuck was he so jittery._

Dean can feel heat rise in his cheeks and he closes his eyes for a moment before looking up at his little brother with an embarrassed grimace.

“Oh….yeah…I guess….” All the bluster and anger leaves him now as he sees Sam’s beautiful hazel eyes ( _mostly green-brown just now_ ) fixed on him with nothing but concern and tenderness - no judgment or disappointment. 

Sam steps up close to his brother and lays his palms gently against both sides of his neck, stroking his jaw line with his thumbs.

“Dean.I.Will.Not.Leave.You.Ever.Again.” he annunciates ever word carefully. “Do you hear me?”

Dean grabs onto Sam the same way, but his touch is more desperate, just short of possessive, hanging on to what he so badly wants to claim as his own.

“Good, cause, I’d hunt your ass down and bring you back anyway. You belong with me. Don’t you forget it.” He rumbles at his brother and his eyes are sparkling fiercely, apprehension and nerves fading.

Dean crushes their mouths together in a hot, hard, demanding kiss. Nipping sharply at Sam’s lower lip and all but forcing his mouth open in an urgent need to get closer to him, to connect with him. Dean takes complete control and Sam’s brain helpfully disengages at the assault on his senses.

Dean delves deep, takes possession of Sam’s mouth with all he’s got and Sam simply lets him, shivering at the feeling of Dean’s deep need and want for him.  

Dean’s tongue maps out every corner of Sam’s mouth, spreading scorching heat and mellow taste of the whiskey over Sam’s palate. Sam wraps his arms back around his brother tightly and lets his hands slide down to his tight, round ass, pulling him fast against his hard body and slotting their hips together.

Dean grunts and backs Sam against the counter until his ass collides almost painfully with the granite slab on it. Dean rolls his hips hard into Sam’s and they can feel each other’s cocks filling quickly from the play and friction.

_Gonna show you that I’m not broken. That I can be in charge. Fuck, you feel amazing. Need to…_

“God, Dean!” Sam gasps. “Can we…?”

“What?” Dean gives another roll of his hips against Sam, slow and teasing. “What do you want, Sammy? Tell me.” Hot breath against his lips, tongue sliding over the seam, still tasting slightly of bourbon.

“Uuhmm, we gotta…” Dean nips at his chin sending a shudder down Sam’s spine. Dean’s hand slides under his shirt, scraping blunt nails across his stomach and Sam moans as his muscles quiver at the contact, but he pushes at Dean slightly.  “Dean, wait a sec…”

“Not in the mood? Really?” Dean teases and chuckles darkly as he grinds against Sam; both of them clearly ready for more now, long lines of their cocks rubbing against each other with delicious rough drag through their layers of clothing.

The older Winchester claims his mouth once more, hot and wet and so _fucking_ delicious, Sam has trouble collecting his thoughts enough, but he pushes again, stronger this time.  “C’mon, Dean, hold on…just for a minute.”

“ _What?_ ” Dean comes up for air and looks at Sam, annoyed and scowling.

“I need to put away the groceries, Dean.” Sam pants, exasperation thick in his voice. “It’s all gonna go bad.”

Dean snorts and tries to pull Sam close again, but his Sasquatch of a brother doesn’t give in this time. Rolling his eyes and huffing impatiently, Dean exclaims. “’S only beer and stuff, right? We can cool it down later.”

Sam’s face scrunches up in frustration. “No, it’s not just beer. I got you some other stuff, I thought you’d like for dinner…and snacks ….and…I wanted to surprise you later.” He bites his lip looking slightly hurt and Dean immediately relents feeling guilty as hell at having made Sam feel bad over his own selfish need.

“Sorry, dude.” He lets go of Sam reluctantly and steps back with a sigh, cupping and adjusting himself.

“I didn’t mean to bark at ya. You’re just..y’know…making me a little crazy, is all.” A small smile tugs at the corner of his mouth and he squeezes his hand over Sam’s forearm for a moment. “What’ya got?”

Sam starts rummaging through the bags, freeing one after the other of Dean’s favorite food items and enjoying the hell out of his brother’s reaction. Dean’s eyes keep getting bigger and rounder with each new reveal and he makes the most ridiculous obscene appreciative noises at Sam’s little show and tell.

When the counter is heaped high with a strange assortment of road food and real food, Sam pulls the last bag towards himself, opens something within and then takes out the highlight of his shopping trip.

“Tada!”


	2. SWEET REWARD

 

 

Piled high with real whipped cream and a mountain of thin slivers of dark chocolate curls the Chocolate Silk Pie sits on Sam’s huge palm like a piece of art.  

“Oooh, yessss! Saaaammmy! You _do_ love me!” Dean crows and grins from ear to ear.

Sam laughs, free and happy and the sound lifts the last of Dean’s worries and dark thoughts from his heart leaving him feeling light and reckless.

“You like?” Sam asks his brother with a brilliant smile that is all deep dimples and shining hazel green eyes and Dean has a moment’s struggle which of the two delicious items on display in front of him to go for first. A rumbling gurgle from his stomach quickly makes the decision for him.

“I fucking _LOVE!”_ Dean affirms and reaches eagerly for the pie.

Sam immediately ducks out of Dean’s way, whirls around and holds the pastry high over his head.

“Hey, hey, hey, that’s for later…..you’re gonna have to work up an appetite to earn this first!”

He laughs again this time at Dean’s comically stricken look that quickly morphs into a mischievous smirk, which reminds Sam of the old cartoon characters from the 40’s he used to watch endlessly, stuck in some crappy motel room for days when they were little. He can practically see the gears in Dean’s head turn and the lightbulb pop to life over his head in a thought bubble.

 _‘Oh, dude, I’ve just had the most awesome idea….you’re not gonna get away from me that easy.’_ Dean’s brain races through the myriad of options.

At the slowly spreading positively shit-eating grin and ravenous look Dean lets travel over Sam’s body from toes to head, the younger Winchester’s stomach drops about two floors and his laugh teeters out uncertainly.

_OH, shit…._

Dean saunters closer to Sam and lets his fingertips trail over the delicate skin along the edge of his low slung jeans, where the button-down rides up and reveals a glimpse at his boxer briefs.

“FUCK, Dean! No fair!” Sam gasps and almost drops the pie, but manages to catch himself and simply lowers it from its precarious position.

Dean snatches it up with lightning speed as soon as it's within reach and sets it aside on the counter. Then he leans in close, crowding Sam against the cabinet again, boxing him in with an arm on either side of him, and he licks languidly up his long neck.

“I have a _great_ solutions how to work up said appetite _and_ feed it at the same time, man!” His words feather cool over the slicked skin and it sends a rush of goose flesh crawling over Sam’s scalp and down his neck. “Let’s hurry the fuck up with this and I’ll show you.” Dean’s teeth graze Sam’s Adams apple and a hot prickle of anticipation spreads through his stomach at the promise in his brother’s tone.

“Uh, yeah, ok…” He mumbles feeling thick and stupid, all the blood leaving his brain on an express elevator downwards. 

_Holy shit, I gotta….wanna….noooo – groceries, groceries….._

Sam more or less, throws all of the perishable items into the fridge and freezer without much concern other than to get back to what they’d been doing a moment earlier. Dean is of no help at all keeping up a relentless contact of fingertips and nails on Sam’s skin, wherever he can reach without ripping his brother’s clothes off first.

As soon as Sam closes the fridge, he turns around, grabs Dean by the belt loops and pulls him in close again, eager to feel him, taste him and feed his own hunger.

Dean’s warm, solid body slams into his and he runs his hands up Sam’s front to his chest, leaning in close.

“Ready?” Dean’s rough whisper tickles against the side of Sam’s neck just before Dean rubs his stubbled cheek up the length of Sam’s throat. The friction along his sensitive skin there sets his neck on fire and elicits a sharp hiss from Sam, who nevertheless leans into the touch and clamps his hands onto Dean’s waist to keep their hips locked together.

“Close your eyes, Sammy.” Dean smiles into his brother’s skin and mouths along his jaw line drinking in the reactions his teasing cause.

“Why?” Sam inquires on a sharp exhale, but obeys nonetheless, another jolt of nervous excitement settling deep in his belly.

“’Cause I’m older and wiser and I say so. ‘Cause I promised you a reward.” Dean all but purrs, lips brushing over Sam’s in the mere suggestion of a kiss as his fingers deftly unbutton and spread open the front of Sam’s shirt and then run gently up from his brother’s navel to his shoulders peeling it off completely and throwing it carelessly behind him.

_What the hell does Dean have in mind here….in the kitchen of all places….too many windows…..there were neighbors to consider….poor old Mrs. Immental would have a fit if….oooh….Fuuuck._

A shock of cold creaminess spreads down his sternum and is immediately followed by the sensation of a hot, wet tongue lapping it up with a broad-striped sweep.

A violent shudder spreads gooseflesh all over Sam’s torso, pulls his nipples tight and forces a little surprised huff out of him.

Before he can even order his thoughts enough to figure out what to make of this, the same cool velvety feel of the whipped cream encircles one nipple just to be sucked up sloppily by Dean’s mouth a second later.

Sam’s knees wobble at the sudden rush of heat in his groin and a rapid hardening of his dick in his pants. _Holy Fuck, is Dean’s painting him with the pie….? That’s not…..it’s……what….?_

The other nipple receives the same treatment and hardens to a tight pebble under the attention forcing another harsh sound of appreciation from Sam’s throat. He can feel Dean hum contentedly into his skin and a wave of pleasure ripple outwards from the point of contact. Sam chews on the inside of his cheek to keep from embarrassing himself with a full-on whimper.

 _Fucking awesome…._ Sam’s brain and dick answer his earlier question. _Never thought Dean would be this….adventurous...then again….he loves pie….so why the hell not._

He fights against the urge to open his eyes and _watch_ Dean at work, keen to see his brother’s chocolate smeared mouth on him, but decides at the next icy swipe and scorching lick, just below his navel this time, that the anticipation and surprise of Dean’s progress is half the fun. He leans back against the counter grabbing on to it with both hands so he won’t be tempted to interfere. 

Concentrating on the tantalizing back and forth of cold and hot sensations all over his chest, shoulders, neck and stomach Sam’s skin is soon tingling almost painfully and his breath is coming quick and shallow. He’s achingly hard in the confinement of his jeans and desperate to get his hands and mouth on his brother’s skin to return the favor of his innovative game. 

Dean in the meantime is enjoying himself tremendously, thinking of ever more inventive ways to apply and gather the pie from his little brother’s body. And he is exhilarated to see that Sam seems to be loving this as well, if his little brother’s wrecked face and the way he lets his head fall back against the cabinet with a thunk every few moments and the stuttering groans are any tell.

 _‘Of course, it ain’t bad either that the fucking pie is some seriously gourmet kinda affair. Of course, I didn’t expect any less from Sammy.’_ He thinks with a happy grin and goes back to work.

Eyeing the canvas of Sam’s beautiful body thoughtfully for a moment, he draws a smiley face of gooey chocolate pie filling over the old bullet wound on Sam’s shoulder with soft fingers and then follows the pattern with his lips cleaning up the delicious mess one sucking kiss at a time. All the while watching Sam’s muscles jump and quiver under his touch and drinking in the little frantic sounds escaping his lips.

Next, Dean is painting a slalom line of whipped cream laced with little flecks of chocolate shavings across Sam’s well-defined abs and the younger Winchester curls slightly forward moaning as if in pain, shaggy hair softly framing his scrunched up face as he white-knuckles the counter on either side of his hips. Dean smiles again and collects the creamy goodness along Sam’s soft, trembling skin with his teeth and tongue, letting the tastes and scents roll over his senses while listening to his brother’s labored breathing.

_‘God, this is so fucking hot….got Sammy all strung out and trying to hold back. Poor kid’s cock is about to rip free of his pants like the Hulk.’_

Dean sighs happily, while lapping up a goop of chocolate from Sam’s navel with quick little jabs of his tongue and can feel his skin tighten and pucker at the warm waft of his breath over the slick surface and downy hair there. Sam’s hand jerks free of the counter and hovers in the air above Dean’s head for a moment.

“Uh Uh.”  Dean rumbles, lips moving against the hot surface of Sam’s lower abdomen and he can feel another powerful tremor run through Sam’s body. “Not done yet, Sammy.”

His brother’s hips buck forward at this admonishment and almost bump into Dean’s nose, so he grabs onto his waist and pushes him firmly back against the counter which earns him another strained moan. He mouths hot and messy over the bulge in Sam’s jeans and then keeps his body pressed tight against Sam’s erection as he slowly stands up to his full height. Dean can hear in the string of curses broken by gasps and small grunts above him that Sam is struggling to keep control and it’s causing a delicious wave of prickling current to slide all over Dean’s body and surge of heat into his cock. Then he sets his teeth into Sam’s shoulder and clamps down as he lines up their rock hard lengths and grinds firmly into him with grunt of appreciation.

_Alright, time to shift gears a little. Cut Sammy a little slack._

Sam’s restraint is slipping quickly now, all that’s holding him back is his ingrained instinct to follow his brother’s command and the desire to give Dean _any_ thing he asks for. But even with these strong motivators he is about to give into his escalating need to get in on the fun and get his fucking hands on his brother when he suddenly smells the sweet scent of cream and chocolate directly under his nose and feels something nudging gently at his lips. His tongue flicks out at its own accord and encounters Dean’s finger and the taste of the rich dark chocolate filling there. He ducks forward sucking the offered digit into his mouth greedily with a long broken sound of gratitude and he can hear Dean soft gasp in response as he starts to clean his finger thoroughly with whirls and laps of his tongue.

When Dean finally slides his finger out of his mouth Sam’s chasing after it making his brother chuckle darkly again.

“Easy there tiger, we’ve got plenty more to go.” He can hear Dean’s voice low and rough close to his ear sending a blast of fire along his jangled nerves at the promise in his brother’s tone that has nothing to do with Chocolate Pie.

“Dean….I….I wanna…”

“Shhhh, just gimme a little more time….. C’mon, keep your eyes shut and your mouth open.” He coaxes.

Sam swallows hard but complies with great effort telling himself that enjoying his brother’s special treatment and his own building pleasure a little while longer won’t kill him…. _not immediately at least._

But every part of his body is screaming at him to have some type of contact with this partner and as soon as the next waft of the fragrant pastry touches his nose and the slightest hint of cool filling brushes his lips he sucks in the delicious offering eagerly, this time accompanied by two of Dean’s fingers, and makes short order of it with tongue and teeth.

Dean watches his fingers disappear between Sam’s slick lips and groans quietly at the sight and the sensation of his brother’s mouth working them over thoroughly causing another shock of electricity to skitter down his own spine and spreading a hot tingle over his ass.

 _Fucking Christ, if he could see himself. It’s goddamned criminal how beautiful the kid is._

Dean’s eyes roam appreciatively over his brother’s well-built chest, broad shoulders, tight belly and slim hips and the holy mess he’s created there in the last few minutes. Smears of half-licked cream and chocolate are evident all over his Sam’s skin together and a few bright red bruises are showing where he had sucked away the delectable dessert a little too enthusiastically.

_This is the way pie should be eaten….always….This is how his little brother should be cherished – covered in deliciousness and licked into frenzy._

A dollop of pie filling in the hollow of Sam’s throat catches his attention and he quickly scoops it up with his tongue before continuing along his collarbone with a careful scraping of teeth. Sam shudders and whines softly under his touch and sucks more possessively on his fingers sending spasms of need straight to Dean’s groin before he can extricate himself gently.

Dean can see it takes every ounce of control Sam can muster not to just latch onto his brother and take the pleasure he so desperately wants.  The noises; the sounds of pure bliss coming from Sam have Dean’s head spinning and his cock straining for attention and leaking steadily in his Levis.

But he isn’t quite ready yet to give up the gratifying torture of his little brother, quickly becoming addicted to the sights and sounds of Sam falling apart for him like this.

 _‘Sam’s my drug of choice. Better than beer, better than whiskey, better than pie…..well, really, best of all **with** pie.’ _  Dean concludes hazily.

He collects some of the dark chocolate shavings from the undisturbed side of the pie and places them on his tongue with a sigh of appreciation for the decadent flavor. Just as they start to melt slightly, Dean gently presses his mouth to Sam’s barely parted lips and darts his tongue past them in a few tiny licks.

That finally snaps Sam’s tight hold on his self-control. He slides one hand around the back of Dean’s neck tightly holding him in place as he sucks Dean’s tongue into his mouth forcefully and laps at the chocolate there. The filthy moan accompanying his little brother’s capitulation sends vibrations racing along all of Dean’s nerves making his dick twitch against Sam’s in response. His hands find Sam’s hips and dig in firmly, pulling him in even closer and grinding forward with his own as their tongues tangle and dance with each other; spreading the taste of the rich dark cocoa across both of their palates and sending their senses soaring.

Sam breaks the kiss and looks at Dean with intense need, his eyes shining in a kaleidoscope of colors that leave Dean breathless. 

“’Nough teasing, dude.” He pants and kisses the corner of his mouth softly licking at a forgotten bit of chocolate there. “My turn.”

Before Dean can protest, Sam scoops up a finger full of the whipped topping and smears it across Dean’s plush bottom lip. He then quickly leans forward and sucks it into his mouth caressing it with his tongue as he revels in the sensation of the thick cream flowing into his mouth mixing with the lingering taste of the chocolate.

 _‘Oh, what the hell….fine….that works, too.’_ Dean gives in and throws his plans out the window at Sam’s initiative.

Dean reaches blindly for the pie and swirls his fingers through the mess before he pulls back from Sam slightly and licks his fingers suggestively. The younger Winchester’s eyes follow every minute movement with a deep hunger that makes Dean shiver with anticipation just before Sam dives forward again, attacking his mouth.

Whipped cream and dark chocolate and pie filling mix and mingle on their tongues as they plunder each other’s mouth, hands reaching and grabbing and spreading the remainder of the sticky mess over skin and clothes.

When they come up gasping for air a moment later, Sam tugs at Dean’s shirt.

“Off.” He commands and Dean is only too happy to obey, pulling it quickly over his head and throwing it in the direction of one of the chairs, which it completely misses.

Immediately Sam lets his hands smooth down his brother’s shoulders to his back reveling in the fact that he can finally feel Dean’s muscles jumping and flexing under his touch. He continues the slide straight into Dean’s pants and cups his tight ass greedily to connect every inch of his own skin to his brother’s. Bending down to nip and tease at the shell of Dean’s ear he inhales his familiar scent deeply and his eyes flutter shut for a moment at the pure joy of being so close.

“Bro, are you _sniffing_ me?” Dean’s voice is amused.

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’bout” Sam mumbles between kisses along Dean’s neck.

“Uhu…”

Sam looks up at Dean’s lust-softened eyes and dirty face and he can’t help but smile widely before licking and kissing away what remains of the cream and chocolate that make Dean look like a food-filthy four-year-old at the moment.

“Dude,” he rumbles low against the corner of Dean’s mouth, “Don’t you know you’re not supposed to play with your food?”

“Nope, got no table manners. You should know….” Dean counters a little breathlessly as Sam buries his nose in the soft patch behind his ear and starts to mouth wetly over the sensitive skin there until Dean can’t suppress the small desperate noise rising from deep in his chest.

“Hhmmmm.” Sam hums into Dean’s neck pleased with his brother’s reaction. “Probably the first time I don’t give a shit, ‘bout that.” His teeth suddenly set with soft pressure into Dean’s corded neck and he sucks a mark there.

Dean tries to keep his brain in check and himself from starting to make highly embarrassing, needy whimpering sounds at the amazing feel of Sam’s fingers digging into his ass, his brother’s steely cock rubbing against his own, his mouth working over his flushed skin and the shaggy mop of hair tickling his neck.

“’Bout time you loosen up a bit with that.” Dean says not even trying to hold back the growl in the words. “I’ve got _tons_ more ideas where that came from.”

He scoops up some more of the pie, blindly, and spreads it over Sam’s throat, where he can reach easily to bite and lap at it as his hand slides into Sam’s long tresses and he tugs his head back further.

“Uungh, Dean…..fuck…” Loving the feel of Dean’s demanding pull, Sam’s grip tighten hard on his taut glut muscles and he lets his head falls back cracking it loudly against the cabinet again. Dean winces at the sound, instincts to keep Sammy from harm flaring to life sharply, and he quickly slides a hand between his skull and the wood. But he also takes his brother’s exposed neck as an invitation to nip and suck along it and then his jaw until he finds his lips again and demands entry.

Completely losing himself in the exploration of his brother’s mouth Dean rolls his hips forward again, deliberate and slow, searching for relief on this tight cock as he drags it alongside Sam’s erection.

With an impatient grunt Sam suddenly slides one hand up to the curve of Dean’s neck and the other around his back, tightly drawing his brother against him and he turns them around until Dean is slammed against the counter with no way to escape. Dean’s hind brain flares for a quick second in protest at the perceived trap but at the same time a wave of raw want rolls through him at Sam’s forceful take-over tightening his groin even further and ripping a gravely snarl from his throat.

Their kiss becomes so heated and hungry it has them both tremble and gasp within moments.

“Jesus…shit,” Sam grinds out between clenched teeth and pulls back slightly separating their hips. “Won’t….last…like that….” He grabs himself through the denim and takes a few deep calming breaths to control his hammering heartbeat that he can feel throbbing in his dick.

Dean stills as well aside from his heaving breaths and he is smoothing a hand up and down his brother’s side in a mindless, repetitive motion as he pants out. “Don’t….have to, Sammy. ‘S ok….”

His mind is slightly foggy with the overload of sensations and he doubts that he’ll last much longer himself, feeling the distinct tightening of his balls and pressure in his dick amp up another notch. But he sure as hell isn’t gonna mention that.

Sam’s scowls at his brother, looking indignant. “And let you have _all_ the fun? Not gonna happen.”  His face changes into a fierce grin and he lets go of himself setting his hands low on Dean’s hips instead.  “I haven’t even had my desert yet.”

And with that he sinks to his knees in front of Dean and takes his sweats and boxers down with him in one smooth motion hearing Dean uttering a harsh moan above him like he’s dying. Letting his eyes and hands travel back up from Dean’s ankles and over his slightly bowed shins and along his strong thighs to his angry red and leaking cock standing at attention at his eye level, Sam keenly takes in every impressive inch of his brother. Then he cups Dean and places the softest of kisses on the tip of his cock smearing the burst of pre-come there on his lips in the process. He lifts his eyes to Dean’s face and can see his brother’s pupils blow wide as he makes a show of licking the pearly liquid off his lips slowly and pulling the lower one through his teeth for good measure.

“Oh, craaap, Sam….” Dean’s brain is reeling and the gorgeous view and the thought of what’s inevitably next. He can feel a rush of intense heat race up his limbs and down his back until it all merges at his center and seems to expand into a fireball about to explode out of him.

Seeing Dean’s face and neck flush suddenly, his dick twitch violently and harsh breaths pumping his sides like a bellows, Sam knows his brother is close….too close for what he still wants him to enjoy. He quickly encircles the base of him squeezing hard both to get Dean’s attention back and to stave of the impending orgasm.

“Uh uh.” He chides with a chuckle, repeating his brother’s earlier words. “Not done yet, Dean.”

“Uuuhng, I….yeah…ok….gimme….uh…gimme a sec.” Dean wheezes and rubs a hand down his almost despairing looking face while the other is clutching at the countertop in order to stay upright. 

 _‘Fuck, fuck, fuck….! Ok…chill man…you can do this.’_ He stares at the ceiling for a moment starting to recite “Back in Black” song lyrics in his head, trying anything to distract him enough get his libido back under control and not blow his load right there and then.

Sam quickly pops the button and unzips his own jeans to relieve some pressure on his painfully restricted cock, groaning quietly as the cool air caresses the over-heated tip of it peeking out from from above the waistband his boxer-briefs. He fights hard against the urge to start stripping himself to completion, but keeps his eyes firmly on the prize and his mind on the idea of completely taking Dean apart at his own game. 

When Dean seems to be slightly less in danger of losing his shit, Sam places a gentle kiss on his hip bone.

“U ok?” He breathes into his brother’s skin.

“Mmmh, yeah.” Dean’s hand cards through Sam’s hair and pushes it off his forehead to have a better line of sight. “’S better…..I think.” 

“Good, cause, ‘m no’gonna le’you chicken out now.” Sam’s mouth is traveling across Dean’s flat, quivering stomach to the other hip, where he quickly sucks a hard mark into the soft skin while letting go of his brother’s cock. Dean hisses his discomfort, but is secretly glad that the sharp immediate pain is keeping his head in the game.

“Alright,” he drawls down at his brother,” what’d’ya got in mind?”

“Payback.” Sam smiles up at him sweetly while rubbing his thumb soothingly over the mark on his brother’s hip marveling at the heat collecting there as the blood wells up under the skin. Dean is so hypnotized by the stunning lines and angles of Sam’s familiar face, his kiss-swollen lips and his wide shining eyes that he doesn’t pay attention to Sam’s other hand.

Before he can gather his wits or make any type of intelligent remark, Sam lathers up Dean’s hard cock with a handful of pie, whipped cream, crust, chocolate filling and all. Dean gasps at the sudden icy chill enveloping his flushed shaft and at the sight of the mess dripping in gobs to the floor. His hand automatically tightens in a fistful of Sam’s hair making his brother moan with pleasure.

“Fucking _Christ_ , Sam…..” he groans as his brother’s mouth descends on him with the enthusiasm of a honey-crazed bear that scares him a little. 

_After all, ‘m still gonna need that part of me later…._

All concerns in his mind and complaints on his tongue float away, however, as his brain turns completely to mush ( _or pie filling)_ in two seconds flat. Sam is going to town on him, like his dick is the most precious and delicious delicacy in the whole universe. He practically devours Dean with little nips, long licks, sucking kisses, swirls of his tongue, scrape of his teeth and every other trick and motion his clever mouth can come up with.

Dean is half-slumped forward, one hand clutching Sam’s shoulder for support the other still in his hair as he’s given up all pretenses to control the noises and filthy comments falling from his lips. He is watching utterly mesmerized how Sam’s lips stretch wide around his rock hard cock, pie filling and cream squeezing  out of the corners of his mouth and dripping down his chin and onto his chest and stomach.

_Oh, Jeeeesus Fucking Christ…..by all that’s holy….this is gonna kill me….look at the boy….I….fuuuck._

Dean’s hips buck forward without any control and Sam chokes a little , his pie-messy hand flying up to slam Dean back against the cabinet behind him.

_Shit, that’ll leave a mark._

“S-sorry, S-Sammy….I….ungh….fuck…didn’t mean to….” Dean tries to apologize between harsh gasps and fights against the familiar building pressure at the base of his spine.

He grabs Sam’s hand and brings it up to his mouth, starting to lap and suck at it in rhythm with his brother’s action down below. He completely loses himself in the swirl of sensations - taste, touch, smell and sight, all combining to a dizzying tornado tunneling his vision and tightening his entire body as he races towards the edge.

Sam’s fingers curl unconsciously into the heat of his brother’s mouth relishing the scorching wetness he finds there, while his is sucking Dean down steadily as far as he can and building up speed.

_God, he loves this - mouth full of his brother’s cock, Dean getting less coherent by the second and adding the pie ain’t half bad either._

“Sam,” Dean’s voice cracks harshly, pleading and warning at the same time. Sam barely hears him, too absorbed in trying to swallow him down, giving him everything, making it so good for Dean.

“God, Saaaam…fuck….I….gonna….” Dean desperately grips his brother’s shoulder, trying to push him back, sure he’ll come any second, worried Sammy will choke on him.

Sam feels Dean shaking apart under his hands and mouth and hears the plaintive note in Dean’s voice, but he’s made up his mind, won’t let his brother go, wants everything he has to give him.

His eyes lock on Dean’s full of challenge and promise and he closes his long fingers on Dean’s hips with bruising force holding him in place. There’s no doubt of his meaning as his head keeps bobbing steadily and his lips clamp around Dean even tighter.

The offer in his brother’s action and the open admiration and devotion in his eyes as he looks up at Dean through sweaty strands of hair send Dean flying off into space. His orgasm rips out of him hot and thick as lava and Sam’s name explodes from his lips like joy-filled praise.

As Dean spills himself into Sam’s mouth and the salty-bitter flavor of him mixes headily with the lingering sweetness of the pie, Sam feels like his tastebuds are going to fail and shut down from the excess. He ravenously swallows everything flooding in, unwilling to miss a single drop and finally succumbs to his own need for relief. Stripping himself furiously it only takes Sam a few short moments to follow his brother over the edge. With a series of grunts that has Dean twitch and spill again over his tongue, Sam lets go, both of Dean’s spent cock for fear of hurting him and of his own tight control. Milking himself with tight, fast strokes he paints Dean’s leg, his own chest and the floor.

When Dean feels the first shot of warm liquid hit his leg and his eyes snap open to find Sam’s boring into his. His borther’s head is tilted up, cords standing out in his straining neck and Dean is fucking sure that he’s never seen anything so hot, so dirty, and yet so real and pure in his entire life. His own cock twitches at the site and he can’t tear his eyes away. (‘ _And why the hell would I EVER want to tear my eyes away from this…’_ ) Using what little strength and control he has left Dean is willing his stiff fingers to release the death grip he’s had on the edge of the countertop and drops his aching hand down to cradle the back of Sam’s head gently. “Yeah, that’s it, Sammy,” he coaxes, “c’mon, lemme see you.” Sam’s brows are knit together, his pupils wide and dark as he gasps and comes again, never breaking eye contact with his brother. Dean’s spent cock dribbles a bit more and Sam, gasping for air, reflexively catches it with his tongue. (‘Holy shit, I could die right the fuck now.’)

Utterly spent Sam finally leans his forehead against Dean’s lower abdomen and mouths mindlessly at the velvety soft skin there. Struggling to breathe, trying to stay conscious and still floating on a wave of pure ecstasy.

Neither knows how long it takes them to come back to their senses, but Sam finally notices dimly that Dean’s hand is carding through his hair in jerky, clumsy motions and the side of his own face is stuck to his brother’s hip.

He paws at Dean’s thighs trying to push upright from his awkward position, carefully separating their skin with a little snatch of resistance from the sticky pie mess and come coating his cheek.

“Duuuude, gross.” He moans in mild disgust scratching at the disaster which had been his clean-shaven face less than an hour ago.

Not being half held up by Sam’s weight against him anymore, Dean slides down the cabinet and his naked ass lands in a puddle of indefinable goo.

Still he grins widely at Sam, eyes hooded and blissed out as he pats Sam’s leg.

“Aaaah, Sammy, admit it….you loved it!”

Sam casts a look around at the complete disaster zone around them and the state of their own wrecked bodies and he bursts out laughing as he sinks down next to Dean and leans against the cabinet.

“Yeah, Dean, I _did…._ it was pretty spectacular…..but….man….the _clean-up_ we gotta do _….”_ He weakly waves around one hand and laughs again, maybe a little hysterically.

Dean just shrugs dismissively too tired and pleased with himself for this idea to be bothered with the future for the moment.

“Minor details, man….don’worry…we’ll deal.”

He bumps is shoulder into Sam’s and they fall quiet for a long moment, still dazed by the events of the past hour.

“Still think we shouldn’t play with your food?” Dean finally inquires a little too casually.

“Hhhhmmm,” Sam hums thoughtfully, sensing the suppressed hope in his brother’s voice that speaks of how much he had enjoyed this. Pressing in closer to Dean’s shoulder and letting his eyes fall closed for a moment, he smiles like a fool. “Guess you convinced me otherwise….some of the time at least.”

Dean looks over at him to gauge his seriousness and a goofy grin splits his face the moment he sees Sam mirroring his expression.

“Told ya, older and wiser…..” He chuckles.

“Sure, Dean, you’re the food-sex-Yoda of your generation.” Sam barks a laugh. “What’s next, oh wise one?”

“How ‘bout showers before we get super-glued to the floor, smart ass?” Dean counters and rises carefully to avoid slipping in the mess, pulling Sam with him.

 


	3. UNCERTAINTY

 

Dean is back in the kitchen first, figuring that if he instigated this mayhem he should also make a start at cleaning it up first.

 _‘Well, really, the one who cooked shouldn’t have to do the dishes….but Sam might see that a little differently. And if I want any chance at something like this again….I better play nice….’_ Dean rationalizes internally.

Luckily they kept the blast zone pretty localized, so the cleanup won’t necessarily require hazard pay. is less involved than Dean initially expected. By the time Sam rolls into the kitchen, Dean is wielding a mop and finishing the floor with one last flourish.

“Dude, that’s a whole new side of you we can expand on - domesticated houseboy” Sam grins at Dean with a wink and the ducks quickly as the mop rises threateningly out of the bucket in his brother’s hands.

“You better take that back, pronto, man, if you don’t want this handle up your ass.” Dean grouses and scowls at him.

But Sam’s good mood persists and he counters. “Naaaw, I’d like to keep _that_ kind of action for another day.”

Dean freezes mid-motion and stares bug-eyed at Sam, who just smiles at him and grabs a sponge from the sink.

 _‘What? Shit…..did he really just say that? And did he actually…did he even….mean….sex?’_ Dean’s mind is stumbling through the implications.  ‘ _I mean, yeah,….I guess it’s kinda…..like….the next level? But, holy crap…..is Sam actually already….thinking that far? And in….detail?’_

Dean clears his throat and rubs a hand over his suddenly tingling neck in a rare moment of feeling completely out of his element.

He looks over to where Sam wipes down the front of the fridge and his brother isn’t showing the slightest sign of recognition at his momentous remark. Dean decides that it must have been a slip of the tongue and that Sam is just as unprepared to deal with this new idea as he is.

He shrugs it off with some effort and quickly takes the mob and bucket out to the mud room, fleeing from risking further discussion of the subject.  _At least for the moment…_

Wiping the counters down one last time and checking around for any splatter, Sam smiles inwardly.

 _‘Good, planted the seed. Pretty sure Dean got the message. The rest can wait….a while.’_  

Just then Dean walks back in and comes to stand over the sad remains of the pie Sam had moved to the kitchen table.

“Man, will you look at that.” Dean laments. “You think we can salvage some of it for desert later?”

Sam snorts. “Dude, didn’t you have _enough_ pie for one day? ‘Sides ‘m pretty sure this qualifies as biohazard by now…..” 

Dean draws his finger through the whipped cream on a small semi-intact part of the pie in an unconscious smiley face design and then licks his finger with a small moan.

“There’s no such thing as enough pie, Sammy.” He grins boyishly at his brother which sends Sam’s heart soaring in joy again at having him back.

“If you say so.” He grins. “Hey, what’s your obsession with smiley faces today?”

“What’d’ya mean?” Dean looks back at the pie and then up at Sam.

“Uuuhhmm, cause, I’m _wearing_ one.” Sam’s voice goes soft as he pulls his gray v-necked t-shirt to the side revealing his shoulder and the vague purpling outline of a smiley there.  

Dean’s eyes go wide for one second and then his face scrunches into a deep scowl and he looks chagrinned. “Shit, Sammy, I…didn’t realize it’d get this dark…. Sorry, man…”

Sam interrupts him. “Nooo, Dean, it’s fine…..just…I….” He flushes bright red and bites his lip as he turns away slightly. 

_What the hell?_

“Hey, wait.”, Dean grabs Sam’s shoulder and turns him back to face him afraid he might have gone too far. “Don’t do that, man. You…what? Are pissed that I hurt you? Don’t want me to do it again? What?”

Sam glances up at Dean from underneath his lashes, lips pressed into a thin line, unsure, if he should voice what he is about to say, worried that it might scare his brother off and nervous that he’s moving too fast. This is still so new for them both. There are no rules or guidelines to follow. Sam doesn’t know if he is overstepping an invisible line by admitting his true feelings. But something pulls at him to be honest. 

Dean’s hands clamp harder on Sam’s shoulders, a thumb absentmindedly rubbing at the mark he left there, as he stares at him intently, trying hard to read his expression.

“Sammy, please….what?” A note of frustration creeps into Dean’s tone at his inability to figure out what has his brother so reluctant to talk to him. ‘ _Kid’s not shutting up for anything….now he’s gone shy on me?’_

“I kinda….uhm…I like it….being….marked by you.” Sam finally whispers hoarsely. He reluctantly forces himself to look Dean in the eye which are widening and brightening with a dawning understanding and then suddenly sparkle fiercely with delight of having gotten the point.

“Yeah?” Dean asks softly.

“It….uhm….makes me feel…like…I belong to you…with you…ya know?” Sam stammers slightly, but his voice gets stronger with every word.

“Yeah?” Dean asks again, fully aware how stupid he sounds but momentarily too stunned to say anything else.

_Who’d a thought his giant Sasquatch of a brother, who can take apart monsters with his bare hands, who can probably fell a tree with one good kung fu chop and who can take on a small army of creatures on his own also likes to give up ~~a~~ some control and get a little pain mixed with his pleasure. Huh?_

Dean tries to wrap his mind around every brand new nugget of information he’s learned about his brother in the span of the last 48 hours. The brother he thought he knew inside out like the mechanics of his car or all the intricate parts of his Colt. The brother he had been partially responsible for turning into the man he is today. Just to find out that there are obviously still some very deep wells to explore.

_Fucking HOT is what this is….and I’m gonna enjoy the hell outta getting to the bottom of it…._

“Dean?” Sam’s voice is almost timid again as he is waiting for some type of reaction from his brother. “You don’t….I mean…I…”

“Oh, c’mere, you stupid sonofabitch…” Dean pulls Sam towards him until their lips crash together and he does his best to show Sam without words that he’s all game for this….wherever it may lead.

“Oh…” Sam breathes when Dean finally separates their lips enough to get a good lungful of air.

“Yeah…. _oh_ ….” Dean repeats and kisses Sam again, lightly this time before he straightens up. “Man, you can have anything you want from me, ok? No bars. Just ask.”

Sam’s eyes are a deep blue-green as he stares into Dean’s with wonder at the continued open acceptance and easy “go-with-the-flow” attitude his brother keeps displaying – no matter how surprised Sam is about his own newly-emerging ideas and preferences where he is concerned.  He nods sharply. “OK”

“And you _always_ belong with me, you hear?  Always _have_. No bruising required.” Dean continues in a stern voice, but Sam can see Dean’s eyes crinkle at the corner with amusement and warm pride turning them a beautiful shade of mossy green. 

Instead of answering, Sam kisses Dean again, soft and languid and full of the gratitude for his brother’s sheer existence he feels in every molecule of his body.

After a moment, Dean groans and pushes back from Sam with an obvious effort of will.

“Dude, we gotta leave the house for a while, ok? Or are you ready for round….what…five?”

Sam has to laugh at Dean’s torn expression, completely sympathizing with the feeling of wanting to rip his brother’s clothes off again and see where that leads them and the need to give in to the growing feeling of cabin fever that has them both on edge and ready to break free.

“No, I think we can both do with a little recoup time.”

“I didn’t say _that….._ nothing wrong with my stamina….” Dean waggles his eye brows.

“Fine, Jerk. You can prove that to me later, ok?” Sam huffs a laugh.

“You’re so on, bitch.” Dean shoots back with fondness as he ruffles Sam’s still damp hair.

“OK, let’s go. I have an idea.” The younger Winchester ducks out of the way and pivots to snatch up the pie and drop it into the trashcan in one smooth move. “And it doesn’t involve any food.”

Dean lets out a funny little whine of regret that has Sam laughing again. “Ok, ok, no food at least for a little while….”

With that he leaves the kitchen and goes to collect his boots at the front door.

Dean follows him out thinking that this is turning out to be one damned fine day.

\----------------------------------------

Hours later on the way back to the house Dean reflects that in typical Winchester fashion, he’d probably jinxed himself with that overly positive prognosis.

_Sure, their excursion had started good…great really…when Sam took him to the shooting range at the other end of town and had been practically glowing at Dean’s praise about what an excellent idea this was. And seeing Sam so happy and carefree was a definite highlight._

_Next he was pretty fucking pleased to find that his little brother had kept all of his equipment and weapons in perfect working order. Not that he was really surprised at that fact. Sam had always been meticulous with everything he was given to take care off, even when he was little._

_But he found that it touched him deeply as yet another sign of his brother’s dogged determination not to give up on him when he was “out of commission” there for a while._

_After he shook off the chick-flick moment at the sight of his arsenal (‘Cause it wasn’t weird to get emotional about your favorite gun or machete.’) he’d been almost giddy to get onto the range and have the familiar weight of his Colt settle comfortingly in his hand again. And being surrounded by the noises and smells he knew so well gave him a reassuring feeling that all was well in the world._

_Well, or at least it would be, now that he was back at it and taking care of business._

_He was fucking pumped to shred some, if not monsters, then evil paper targets with his awesome marksmanship._

_And that was where the fun had ended and reality set in….brutally….like a kick to the groin._

_Sam had laughed at first and told him not to be so hard on himself for missing a couple of shots._

_‘But fact is, you miss – you or someone close to you ain’t gonna make it. Missing is not an option.’_

_Next Sam had pointed out, not at all helpfully, that he was still leagues better than anyone else at the range._

_‘Yeah….a bunch of civilian hobby shooters and housewives….not even a cop in the bunch….real accomplishment there.’_

_And Sam himself had outscored him by an embarrassing margin. Not that he was always the better shot, but typically they were keeping much closer score to each other._

_Over the next hour his own buoyant mood first turned into sarcastic humor, then scathing self-deprecation and finally evaporated completely and left him taciturn and uncertain._

_Who the hell was he, if he couldn’t even shoot straight? He’d been a kick ass shot since he was in the single digits. His shotgun and Colt were really an extension of his arm; they felt so natural to him._

_‘And now I lost my mojo….like…completely…like a freakin’ rookie.’_

_Sam had tried his damnedest to keep making excuses for his sorry situation before simply repeating over and over that all he needed was more practice and some extra time to regroup._

_He didn’t even really freak out properly - he was so fucking pissed at being treated like he was fragile or an idiot. But most of all he was furious with himself for having been an all-out pussy and out of the game for so long that it had come to this._

_But he also noticed quickly enough that his own sinking mood had completely wiped all happiness off Sammy’s face, left him looking exhausted and made him act jittery and tentative._

_‘Like he is expecting an explosion because he’s run out of ideas on how to disarm the warhead.’_

_So then he was kicking himself for taking his own failure out on Sam, who didn’t deserve this, when all his little brother was trying to do was to give him a chance to get back to his old self._

_So when they packed it in at the range and Sammy suggested almost shyly to stop for burgers at this cool diner he’d discovered, he decided that is was high time to suck it up. He steeled his own frayed nerves, pummeled his misgivings into submission and smiled at Sam broadly, accepting his offer with all the enthusiasm he could muster, but feeling like a fake._

_And he could see by the hurt flicker in Sam’s eyes that his little brother wasn’t fooled by his bravado and overly positive attitude. Sam just knew him too well and he felt practically naked and exposed under Sam’s laser gaze._

_He needed to do better. For Sam. This was nothing new. Just had to freakin’ put up a wall and shove his stupid doubts behind it and deal with it later. Piece of cake._

_All through dinner he did his best to keep up the banter and convince Sam that nothing was wrong, even asking for another session at the range tomorrow, while the food tasted like ash in his mouth and his heart was thudding too fast and he had to keep an iron-hard grip on the slight edge of panic stealing in._

_‘Fucking awesome day.’_

_\----------------------------------------_

When they get back to the house, the sun is setting and casting a blood-red glow over the world, which seems appropriately dooms-day-like to Dean.

Trudging inside with his weapons duffle slung over one shoulder and Sam bringing up the rear he is blind to the beauty of the evening and suddenly feels a bone-deep weariness settling into his body.

“Hey, we can leave the weapon cleaning for tomorrow.” Sam says next to him as they enter the house. “Maybe watch a game or a movie instead? Just chill for a little?”

 _‘Shit, Winchester, get it together, or he’ll fuss over you all night.’_ Dean thinks despondent and straightens up a little.

“Naw, Sammy, you know better. Let’s just get it done.” He smiles at Sam, but he can tell that it is a hollow thing and doesn’t reach his eyes.

 _‘Dammit, I really could use some time alone, to get my head on straight. But that’d go over like a fart in church.’_   

“Was just thinkin’ it’s been a long day and….I’m pretty beat…..so.” Sam is trying again, ducking his head and looking at his brother surreptitiously.

“Sam,” a warning note not to push this is clear in Dean’s tone as he looks up at his brother with his eyes narrowed. “Don’t….. I’m perfectly capable of doing what’s necessary.” 

“Yeah, ok….if you want.” Sam agrees quickly in a flat voice and moves into the living room.

“How about we watch the game _and_ clean the guns, huh?” Dean makes a peace offering, feeling guilty again at the way Sam’s shoulders slump in response to his foul temper. “I’ll even get the beers.”

“Yeah, great.” Sam answers, but Dean can tell he is distracted and retreating into his own headspace now.

‘ _Can’t have that….’s not gonna end well…..for either of us. Not tonight.’_

Dean hurries to retrieve a few bottles from the fridge and grabs a bag of Funyuns from the pile of junk food Sam had brought home earlier that day. Then he takes a deep breath and makes his way to the living room determined to keep his brother from thinking he’s an unstable nutcase.

As he steps through the door he can see Sam sitting on the couch with a far-away look and a small sad smile on his face as one hand is rubbing a small circle over the shoulder where Dean knows his smiley-face mark resides. His stomach tightens and his heart squeezes as he realizes how tired and hollow-eyed Sam looks and that it’s worry over him that wears his little brother down.

 _‘Fuck, man, nice job of totally ruining the day. Sammy’s been nothing short of incredible and you freak out like a little bitch ‘cause you can’t hit a target. Get your goddamned game face on. You’re supposed to take care of him – not the other way around. He’s carried you long enough. So get back to it.’_ He admonishes himself harshly and swallows hard.

“Hey, got you some vegetables, in case you missed having a salad bar earlier.” Dean announces his return and throws the bag into Sam’s lap.

The younger man startles out of his reverie and let’s his hand drop from his shoulder, but Dean is relieved to see his face lighten up with a genuine smile.

“Oh, yeah?” Sam chuckles as he looks down at the bag. “Uhm, ‘m pretty sure there isn’t anything even remotely vegetable-like in here. Or at least nothing nutritious.”

“Aaaah, Sammy, don’t be a Funyun hater. Got you to grow big and strong on these when we were little, didn’t I?” He flashes a grin at Sam that causes another degree of brightening of Sam’s somber expression.    

“Ppffft, sure, Dean, that’s what did it…..Funyuns.” He barks a laugh and relaxes into the couch as Dean plops down next to him and hands him a beer.

“Funyuns, mac ’n cheese and lots a love, Sammy.” Dean holds up his beer and Sam clinks it with his, huffing another little laugh.

They both take a long pull and are quiet for a moment looking at each other searchingly, but both decide that words won’t do any good to solve the tension hovering in the room. Sam finally drops his eyes and clicks on the TV to search for a game leaving Dean with the feeling that he should apologize or explain or make some type of sense of his gloomy state of mind.

After a moment pondering the options, Dean settles for body language and slides a little closer to Sam, letting his thigh press up against Sam’s in a silent plea.

_'Sorry, man.’_

Sam goes still for a moment, but doesn’t look at Dean. Then he relaxes visibly in his seat and returns the pressure of Dean’s leg.

_‘Don’t worry about it.’_

Dean slings an arm over the back of the couch and let’s his hand rest on the back of Sam’s neck.

_‘Just gimme a little more time.’_

Sam leans into his touch, causing Dean’s fingers to slip deeper into his hair.

_‘Take all the time you need. Not going anywhere.’_

For a long while they watch the game, quiet for the most part, simply enjoying each other’s company and the comfortable silence.

Dean tries hard to keep his mind in the here and now and not let the blue mood return. He’s successful for the most part as he concentrates instead on letting his fingers explore every ridge and bump and soft spot on Sam’s scalp and enjoying the contented little noises he receives from him in return.

But as they eventually do start to clean their weapons on the coffee table and his hands are falling easily into the routine movements of the familiar task, his mind is free to wander. His earlier worry about his diminished abilities rears its ugly head again and takes firm hold of him, making his stomach knot uneasily.

Fully aware that he will not be able to hide his rising apprehension from Sam for too long, he finishes his work quickly and reassembles his Colt in record time.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m calling it a night.” He proclaims and makes a show of stretching and yawning to support his statement.

Sam shoots him a surprised and slightly suspicious look before glancing at his watch.

“You sure? I thought you wanted to watch the end of the game?” Dean can see his brother pick up the pace at cleaning his Taurus and knows he only has seconds to get away clean.

“Naw, I think they got it in the bag. No need to hang around. I’m beat, man.” Dean packs his cleaning supplies and stows his gun quickly. “’Sides, you can tell me all about it tomorrow. Stay, have another beer. Don’t let your old fart of a brother dampen your fun, ok?”

Dean fervently hopes it is enough to keep Sam in his seat and let him have a little while to himself. By the positively disappointed and discouraged look on his brother’s face he guesses that the message was received, louder and clearer than he had intended. Dean swears inwardly at himself for putting that expression on Sam’s face, wishing with all his might that he could simply tell Sam, what had gotten him so freaked. But in all honesty he has to figure this out for himself, first, not entirely sure what is going on with him.

“Alright, Dean, I….just….”

‘ _Don't say it. Don’t offer to come with. Please.’_ Dean begs silently, keeping his eyes on his duffle, closing it carefully.

He finally glances at Sam and again his face must show more than he is willing to admit to himself judging by the resigned slump in his brother’s shoulders as he slouches back into the couch seat.

 “Yeah….ok….I….Good Night, Dean.” He sends a last searching look his brother’s way.

Dean grabs his gear bag and starts quickly for the door, but the sudden urge not to just leave Sam worried and stewing by himself, overwrites his need to flee the room and makes him stop for a moment. (‘ _It’s not Sam’s fault that I can’t deal with….whatever… He’s done good today_.’) Dean steps up to the back of the sofa and lets his hand rest on Sam’s shoulder, applying very conscious pressure over the smiley bruise, before he bends down and murmurs next to Sam’s ear.

“Hey, don’t overthink it, ‘k? ‘M just wiped….and….’m definitely never gonna look at chocolate cream pie the same way.”  He presses his lips to Sam’s temple and finishes. “Night, Sammy.”

Then he retreats from the room as quickly as he can without another look back and without making it look like the panicked flight that it is.

All through getting ready for bed and settled down underneath the sheets Dean grouses at himself in his head.

_‘This is the stupidest thing ever. Why the hell am I so jumpy and freaked out? Fine, my gun skills are shot….ha….for the moment, but I can get my mojo back. Just need practice. It’s temporary. Right? What’d I expect after lying around like a sack of potatoes for weeks. Of course, I can’t bring home the sharpshooter trophy on my first try. Sam wasn’t bothered by it. Sam is as good as ever, better probably. So, no big deal. ‘S just one skill…..I can still….fight…in other ways. And there’s time to….recoup….God, fucking hate that word. M’not handicapped. Fully functional….big check mark on that…in all departments. Proved that fucking point this morning. It’s fine….gonna be fine…has to be fine…. I can do this.’_

Staring at the dark ceiling in their bedroom, trying to calm his nerves and jumbled thoughts, he is tempted for a moment to creep back downstairs and seek some reassurance from his little brother.

_‘Sam will have an answer. His big freaking whip smart brain probably has it all figured out already.’_

With a frustrated sigh, he turns on his side and closes his eyes firmly.

_‘NOT gonna happen. Not gonna crawl into Sam’s lap like a fucking toddler because I fell on my face and got my ego scraped a bit. Get a fucking grip.’_

And after punching his pillow into a more comfortable shape one last time, he finally drifts off into a light and troubled sleep.

\-------------------------------------

As soon as Dean leaves the room, Sam closes his eyes for a moment tightly and shakes his head with a deep sigh, completely baffled.

_‘What the FUCK was that? Dean is clearly freaking out. But he doesn’t want me to help….or….even be there. '_

A stab of hot regret and hurt feelings flashes through him at the thought that Dean doesn’t trust him enough to tell him, what is bothering Dean so much that it drives him to flee his company.

The day had started so awesome. And Dean had obviously thought so, too, judging by his last comment before he ran....

_‘Well, aside from the fuck up with the supply run and the poorly placed sign, that is. Real smooth move, man.’_

But at least Dean told him what had him panicked then and snapped out of it so quickly - judging by what followed….after….  Sam shivers at the thought of their epic pie-make-out-session and smiles at the memories of the easy banter during the clean-up.

‘ _And then it had all fucking crumbled to shit with the shooting range disaster. Great idea, Sam, really smart. How about starting with something easier, like sparring maybe, to get his hand-eye coordination back. But nooo, why don’t you let him play sniper first. JESUS fucking Christ.’_

But all he had wanted to do was to put another smile on his big brother’s face. To get him into a situation he knows well and where he knows he’s confident. And shooting practice had always accomplished both in the past.

He had hoped for an afternoon of good-natured competition and expected some snarky comments and lecturing from the older Winchester. Some….normalcy.

What he hadn’t expected was Dean’s extreme reaction at finding out that his skills had suffered a bit from his long lack of practice. It hadn't even been that bad. And Dean had made definite improvement in the hour they were going at it, but by then his brother had retreated into his own headspace and Sam could see the rapid decline of his confidence, but was unable to reach him and pull him out of the slide.

Sam’s stomach clenches at the recollection of how Dean’s mood had plummeted and the way he had looked absolutely desolate and….yeah, _scared…_.by the end. It had torn straight into Sam’s heart to see Dean so vulnerable and shaken by something so stupid.

His big, strong, near-unbreakable brother; his rock and protector; his daily inspiration to try harder, to be better; hadn't looked so terrified since the Hellhounds had come for him.

Sam shudders violently at _that_ thought. 

 _‘FUCK, I need a drink.’_ With a groan he rises of the couch and makes his way to the kitchen where he pours himself a good three fingers of bourbon before returning to the couch and staring unseeingly at the TV.

As he takes a deep swallow of the amber liquid guilt washes through his veins hot and viscous like poison ( _Or is it the whiskey?)_ and sets a leaden weight on his shoulders that threatens to crush him for a moment.

‘ _God, did I just totally overlook all the warning signs? Rushed Dean into something he hadn’t been ready for? Am I the reason for another near panic attack like the one this morning?’_

His mind is sluggishly churning through the events of the day.

_He knows how high an importance Dean places on his ability to be ready for a fight, ready to defend himself and anyone close to him. So getting him back into fighting shape is a priority, right? And shooting  was sure to have the quickest reward, boost his ego. But should he have guessed at the depth of Dean’s anxiety when he found out that he might have lost a little of his skill?_

_Y_ _es, of course, he should have….he knows his brother and his inability to cut himself some slack, how he assumes responsibility for the world, blames himself for every minute shortfall. CHRIST!_

Sam rakes a hand through his hair and leaves it hooked around his neck, resting his elbow on his knee for a moment. He feels queasy, but then straightens up and takes another sip.

_And he had heard the warnings from doctors that it would take a while to get Dean’s body and mind aligned enough to function normally again, IF he got back out of his semi-comatose state in the first place. They had urged for rest and time and slow acclimation. Had he ignored that, too? Made it worse?_

_‘But Dean is….Dean! He would never agree to taking it easy and letting nature run its course. He never has….always gotten over anything life throws at him….us….with sheer fucking stubbornness. There’s no way I can get him to sit on his hands and wait for…..what even? If I wouldn’t have taken him shooting today, he’d gone on his own sooner rather than later. I’m sure of it. At least I was there. Isn’t it better to get out and….and…do something? I know Dean thinks so.’_

Sam recognizes that he’s trying to rationalize his own actions in his head. Looking to find a measure of forgiveness for having caused Dean’s distress. And it makes him feel even worse. A surge of bile rises in his throat like hot acid.

_‘Holy crap, am I really this selfish? Apparently so. Jesus, I shouldn’t be around him, if I can’t fucking put him first. I am hurting him more than helping him. UGH.’_

Sam’s eyes are burning and he rubs at them vigorously to stay focused.

_He just feels so fucking tired, worn out….raw. Can’t think straight enough to figure out a next step._

More than anything he wishes Dean would let him in, confide in him…..so they can talk things like this through….figure it out together.

 _‘Yeah, and maybe sit around holding hands and braiding each other’s hair after.’_ Sam snorts bitterly at the improbability of that idea.

_But hadn’t Dean been the one pushing for open honesty, just earlier, when they were talking about the smiley mark? Why couldn’t he offer the same to Sam, when it was concerning **his** needs?_

_‘Isn’t that exactly the point, dumbass? Dean always puts his own needs and wants last….always. He sees talking about his own worries as weakness. Won’t share his burdens. FUCK. I’ve got to find a way in…..for both of our sakes.’_

Just as he decides to give up his fruitless pondering, that will undoubtedly get him nowhere good tonight, his cell buzzes in his pocket.

He is half relieved and half worried when he sees the caller ID pop up, questioning for a second if he should answer at all in his muddled state of mind.

But somehow his thumb makes the decision before his brain can and he pushes the button to connect the call.

“Hey, Lis?” He says by way of greeting.

“Hey yourself, Sam. How are you two.”

“Fine. How….how are you? Everything going ok with the move?” Sam tries to distract her quickly, nervous about her catching anything in his voice that could give him away.

“Yeah, it’s going great. We’re making good headway. It’s actually easier than I thought it would be to convince my mom to let go of some of the old stuff.” Lisa lets out a peal of laughter that warms Sam like a ray of sunshine and he sighs appreciatively.

“Good, that’s good, Lisa. I’m really happy for you.” He says and means it, but realizes with horror that his voice cracks at the end.

“What’ wrong?” Lisa’s voice sharpens instantly. “Sam? What happened?”

_Dammit, how is it possible that she can read him so easily already. This is sooo not good._

“Uuuhm, nothing, Lis. Not sure what you mean?” He keeps his voice light but is almost sure that it’s going to be useless.

“Don’t lie to me, Sam. I deserve better.” Her voice is low and dark, but bears no heat, just endless concern.

Sam flinches and swallows thickly, suddenly missing her and her input fiercely. He huffs out a breath.

“Sorry, Lisa. We….we’re fine….really. Just hit a little snag today.” He hedges, still unsure, if he should lay things out for her, doubtlessly adding to her already full plate.

“Tell me about it?” She coaxes and his reserve melts at her softly worried tone.

“Day started….great….no other word for it. But I think I fucked up, Lis, took him to the shooting range.”

“How’s that a bad thing? I would think it’s exactly what he needs to get back to…normal. Well, _your_ normal, I guess.”

Sam is surprised at how relieved her words make him feel….vindicated almost.

“Yeah, well, turns out he….kinda….didn’t do so great….with the target practice, I mean….and it totally threw him for a loop.”

“How?”

“He….he….his mood totally took a nosedive and he got….all….tense and pissed at himself….” Sam tries to explain.

“Uhu. And?”

“And I wasn’t able to reach him. Couldn’t pull him out his doom-and-gloom attitude. He won’t talk to me. Just puts up a wall and behaves like nothing’s wrong.” Sam can hear the slight whiny note in his own voice and hates it.

Lisa sighs.

“And did Dean behave any differently…before….in these situations? When something didn’t go as expected, I mean.”

Sam chuckles tiredly.

“Nope, classic Dean. Shut up and barrel through.”

“Then why are you so worked up about it?” Lisa asks confused as she can plainly read the underlying angst in Sam’s words and voice.

_‘Cause it’s different now. ‘Cause they’re….connected….even closer now. ‘Cause Sam thought that would change other aspects of their relationship as well. ‘Cause he wants….needs to know what his big brother is thinking now more than ever._

As Sam realizes part of the true reasons for his own anxiety over the situation he is both deeply grateful to Lisa for getting him to see more clearly and surprisingly sad that he can’t discuss everything with her.

“Dunno, it’s just….there’s something different about it….now.” Sam struggles to put the other reason into words that has been nagging at him.

“Sam, you know it’s not gonna be all rainbows and kittens with the recovery, right? There’ll be ups and downs. Good days and bad ones. That’s totally normal.”

_No shit, today alone was a fucking roller-coaster ride._

_“_ Yeah, I know.” He breathes.

“The doctors said we needed to treat him as normal as possible and expose him to all of the situations that made up his life before. We’ve done that….short of Hunting, of course. And I am not suggesting you take him on a ghost hunt any time soon, believe me.” She huffs a short laugh. “You are doing nothing wrong, Sam. Don’t beat yourself up, because you are not getting immediately positive results here.”

“I just wish it was easier…on him….you know? Want him to be happy.”

“And he will be….he _is_. You said the rest of the day was great, right?

“Sure…yeah.”

Lisa can hear that there is still something else bothering him, something he hasn’t voiced yet, or can’t or is afraid to. But she needs at least _one_ of the boys to be clearheaded and sure of himself to aid with Dean’s recovery and at the moment. So she pushes on.

“Then _what,_ Sam? What’s making you so unsure all of a sudden?” She asks gently.

Sam is closing his eyes again feeling the worry push to the surface like pressure building in a geyser and the other thought rises with it and then pops like a foul smelling gas bubble.

 “I just….I’m worried….that….it’s too much….for him…..that….he’ll decide coming back wasn’t….worth it?!” (‘ _That **I** am not worth it….not….enough….to help him.’)_

The last comes out more like a question and his voice sounds so small and uncertain that Lisa’s breath hitches in her throat and her instincts demand that she wrap him up in her arms and make him feel better like a small child. But she also knows that this is not really Sam talking. He’s exhausted and running on fumes from his long stretch of caring for Dean. He just needs a little extra fuel. _And probably three straight days of sleep._

“Listen to me.” Lisa’s voice is firm, but gentle, commanding attention, but not chiding. “He came back to us by his own strength, right? That was _his_ decision and he fought hard for it. There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that he’d rather lose a finger or eat health food every day for the rest of his life than be a vegetable again.”

Sam can’t help but bark a small laugh at that, feeling the soothing strength of Lisa’s words and her conviction flow through the phone and over him.

“He just needs a little time to get his balance back. You _know_ that. _You_ will have to make him understand to be patient with himself – every day. And it’ll suck at times. But you feeling sorry for yourself and worrying about unrealistic _what ifs_ isn’t going to make it any easier…for _either_ of you.” 

Sam hears her take a deep breath and when she continues he can also hear the smile in her voice.

“I say this in the most loving way possible, Sam, but you need to suck it up and get back to believing that your big brother can do _anything_ including saving the world _and_ …getting better!”  

Now Sam is chuckling in earnest feeling the nervous energy fall off him like an old coat dropped to the floor. The weight on his heart lifts with the thought that he isn’t alone in this. Having another person to confide in, lean on and gather strength from is such novel and unexpected experience that Sam is sure it will take him a while to get used to. _If he’s lucky to be allowed to get used to it._

For now, though, he is just thankful it and for the person giving it to him.

“ _God_ , Lis, what would I do without you?” He lets out a long heavy breath. 

“Well, it’s hard to kick your own butt, so I’m happy to do it for you.” She says and Sam can again hear the mirth in her voice.

“Yeah, thanks, I think I need that more often than I realize.”

“What you really need is sleep, Sam. Go get some and we’ll talk tomorrow, ok?”

“Wise woman shouldn’t be argued with. Thanks.”

“No problem, Sam, you good now?”

“Much better, yeah. Good Night, Lisa. Miss you.”  The last slips out unbidden, but Sam doesn’t regret it. He means it in every way possible.

After a short moment Lisa answers softly. “Hm, me too. Night, Sam.”  And she hangs up.

Sam smiles to himself, just letting the conversation and renewed hope settle over him for a long minute. He throws back and last of his whiskey and makes his way upstairs to bed.

_Of course, Lisa is right. He has allowed himself to become so ragged with nerves and that makes him see issues where there are none. And yes, he is also feeling a little sorry for himself. And….dammit….that has to stop._

_Dean is behaving very much like himself. Nothing new there - Dean needs his help and will never ask for it._

_It isn’t Dean’s fault that he has new expectations of their changed dynamic._

_And Dean **had** come back to him, told him in his own way that he needed him…..that Heaven isn’t complete without him. That was new for Dean, a big step. What the fuck more could he want?_

_He needs to hold Dean steady, support his weight for now when he can’t do it for himself, like his brother has done for him….all his life._

_He has to help to restore Dean’s confidence and bearings – make him whole again._

_And he has to find a way to do that, without being too obvious about it but at the same time show Dean that he can handle it._

_He will not fucking let Dean down, if it fucking kills him. He can **do** this…..of course, he can._

Keeping up this comforting internal pep talk as he gets ready for bed he feels slightly more positive when he steps quietly into their bedroom.

Sam takes a long look at Dean, who seems to be completely at peace and dead to the world, before he slides into his own bed and cuts off the bedside lamp, Dean had apparently left on for him.

With a deep sigh and relaxes into the mattress and immediately feels his limbs go heavy and his eyes droop.

Welcoming sleep and the possibility of a new, better day tomorrow, Sam drifts off….

 ….just to be ripped out of sleep three hours later by his brother screaming his name at the top of his lungs.


	4. FOG

 

“Saaaaaam!”

He bolts upright in bed, knife in hand as he looks wildly around for threats, intruders….something.

_Where are they? What were they hunting? Did it get in?_

He is so foggy with sleep it takes him long minute to get his bearings on the situation.

“Saaaam….don’t. Stay back.” Dean gasps.

_What’s going on?_

_“_ Can’t get….too late.” His brother groans.

_For what?_

“Please, please, don’t…..please, noooo.”

The bone-crushing desperation in Dean’s voice helps shake Sam out of his groggy state.

_Dean needs him, Dean’s hurt. Gotta save Dean._

“DEAN.” He shouts and launches himself out of bed at his brother, who is white-knuckling the sheets and lying ridged amidst crumpled blankets, arm and shoulder muscles straining, eyes screwed shut tight.

 "Uuuuuh, Liiiisa…..s-sorry…..” Dean moans like he is in pain and throws his head to the side.

_FUCK, another nightmare. At least it’s not Stull again._

“Dean, Dean, come on, man. I’m right here.” Sam kneels by his brother’s side, tentatively shaking him by the shoulder. “It’s ok, you’re safe. ‘S just a dream.”

Dean flings himself away from Sam, voice a hoarse, barely audible whisper. “Not real, not real, not real…..can’t…..Saaaaam.”

An ice cold jolt of fear spears Sam’s heart at the sound of his brother’s miserable wail and he redoubles his efforts of waking him.

_Not Stull, but‘s just as bad…._

“Dean, please, wake up for me. Nothing’s wrong. I’m here, right here. Lisa’s fine. She’s with her mom. Everyone’s fine.” He frames Dean’s sweaty face with his hands and slowly turns his brother’s head towards himself. He can feel Dean’s whole body tremble as if he is under enormous strain and sees his chest rise and fall too shallow and too quick with his panting breathes.

Dean struggles against his hold for a moment, a string of unintelligible words falling from his lips in a thin, overwrought voice, so unlike his brother, that it sets Sam’s teeth on edge and raises the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

_Why can’t I break through to him? What the hell does he see that has him this locked up?_

On pure instinct, Sam leans forward and presses his lips to Dean’s, warm and firm and steady, for a long moment.

_Fuck, it worked before….._

Suddenly the older Winchester goes completely still, breath stopping for a moment, eyes fluttering slightly and Sam can tell that his brother is back with him, awake, but unwilling to admit to it. He straightens back up, watching Dean’s face carefully, seeing his tongue peek out the tiniest bit as it chases Sam’s taste on his lips before his jaw sets in a tight line and he flushes the slightest bit, but still doesn’t open his eyes.  

_Shit, man, I wish I could make you understand, it’s ok….you don’t have to fight this alone…._

His thumbs run a slow, soft path from the bridge of Dean’s nose along his cheekbones, over and over, while he talks to him quietly and soothingly, trying to capture his attention. Dean doesn’t move, gives no sign of his changed state of consciousness, but Sam feels minute degrees of relaxation soften the tense muscles in his body where he is pressed against his brother. Still Dean’s pulse is racing against the edge of Sam’s pinky fingers, where they rest against his neck.

“Dean, you gotta calm down for me, ok?” Sam coaxes. “No good, if you give yourself a heart attack here, man. Was just a dream. We’re alright. Just relax….please?”

He carefully lets go of Dean’s face with one hand and gently pries his clenched fist off the sheets. When Dean finally loosens his grip, Sam threads their fingers together and brings Dean’s open palm up against his own chest. Then he places his other hand over Dean’s heart the same way, feeling the hammering of it acutely against the heel of his hand.

“Take it easy, Dean, c’mon. Breathe with me, ok?” He quickly falls into the familiar breathing pattern their dad had taught Dean and Dean had taught him in return so many moons ago. _Slow count of four in, hold for count of four, slow release with count of six._ Sure, their Dad had meant it for a completely different purpose then – _‘ helps you keep a steady aim and clear field of vision, son’_ – but Dean had soon found out that it helped soothe Sam’s night terrors when he was little and the practice had become so ingrained with them that the effect was almost instantaneous now, no matter what it was used for.

_Slow count of four in, hold for count of four, slow release with count of six._

He can see Dean’s face flinch slightly and his fingers on Sam’s give a quick squeeze. _(‘Don’t need you to tell me….how to fucking calm down….’_ ). But Sam is just relieved at the reaction and the return of his brother’s sense of annoyance.  He digs his fingers into Dean’s chest a little. (‘ _I know, you taught me this….but right now it seems you need reminding.’_ )

Neither speaks. Sam simply keeps up his breathing rhythm and watches Dean closely to make sure he falls into sync with him. When he eventually feels Dean’s heart slow down and his body relax more and more thoroughly Sam sends a quick thanks heavenwards.

_Slow count of four in, hold for count of four, slow release with count of six._

Finally Dean’s other hand releases from the sheets and covers Sam’s on his chest with a reassuring heavy weight, holding on tight.

Sam sits completely still, understanding the profound thanks and quiet apology in his brother’s gesture and touch and he is unwilling to break the fragile spell of the moment. His eyes prick hot and painful at a surge of unwelcome tears and he blinks them back forcefully. (‘ _Not gonna fucking cry like a baby. Gotta be strong. He’s letting you help._ ’)

He also understands that Dean needs to keep his solitude in this moment. He won’t talk about this….not now…or ever….. And although Sam wishes for nothing more than to slide in behind Dean, wrap him up in his arms and never let him go, he tightens both of his hands on his brother one more time instead and whispers.

“Ready to catch a couple more hours of sleep?”

Dean simply nods slowly and pats at his hand.

Sam allows himself another long look at this brother’s beautiful face, leans down once more for a sweet, almost chaste, kiss and gets up from the edge of his bed to go back to his own.

Without another word they both settle in as comfortable as their still slightly jangled nerves will allow and both fall into a light, far from restful sleep, subconsciously listening to the other’s every move and breath and sigh.

\--------------------------------------------------------

Most of the next day passes reasonably pleasantly, if unremarkebly. Both Winchester’s operating in a slight fog as the previous day’s events and short hours of interrupted sleep that are taking their toll on them.

They putter around the house, take care of some chores like cutting the grass, cleaning up the yard, doing some laundry and actually preparing a real meal for dinner as they are expecting Lisa and Ben back that evening.

Dean is surprised to find that he truly enjoys the quiet domestic day and the simple tasks they keep themselves busy with during the morning hours.

But he also wishes he could scrounge up some energy and enthusiasm to take advantage of their last day alone in the house and show Sam again how _much_ he appreciates him, especially today. He knows full well how much it costs his little brother _not_ to bring up last night, can feel Sam’s need to understand and work through it radiate off him. But Dean simply doesn’t feel up to discussing it, doesn’t know how it could help, when all he wants to do is to forget the truly horrific scenarios his inventive mind treated him to in vivid Technicolor.

_Gonna have to work through this one on my own. Get over it and move on. ‘S just a dream after all._

Still, something lingers and nags at him and doesn’t let him shake off the sticky web of the nightmare completely.

And, of course, he catches Sam looking at him uncertainly more than a few times ( _he isn’t blind after all_ ) and he can read the shy hope for Dean to signal some type of interest all too well. It pains him to play the ignorant fool and disappoint his little brother, but he is just too out of sorts to take Sam up on his obvious offer.

Sam on the other hand can’t bring himself to force anything with Dean. Even though he’s almost crawling out of his skin with the need to wipe that haunted look off Dean’s face for awhile and make him forget whatever horror show he had to endure the night before, his brother seems too distracted and tired today to really be interested in anything more than the occasional kiss or brush of a hand over exposed skin. And after yesterday Sam refuses to engage in anything that Dean isn’t implicitly asking for. So instead of waiting for a signal that will most likely not come, Sam busies himself with figuring out other ways to make Dean happy and content on a day where he plainly doesn’t feel quite like himself. He finds that there are plenty of quiet ways to be with Dean and tease a smile out of him without drastic, although dearly missed, physical measures.

From the onset it resembles a day after a tough hunt to Sam. They both got away clean, but barely so, and that always leaves them both in a slightly tense and protective mood. They seem to look out for each other more closely, trying to predict each other’s needs without making it too obvious, getting too much into the other’s space, or on each other’s nerves.

Sam also finds that something has shifted for him. Where they use to give each other a measure of privacy and time to work through shit on their own, he now feels the intense need to stay close to Dean and sees the same sentiment mirrored in his brother’s behavior. So they hover around each other all day, circling each other’s orbit without ever colliding.       

And besides all that, Sam can’t completely suppress the slightly caged and unsettled feeling and he can tell by Dean’s tense body language that he’s feeling the same way. Sam finally breaks down after lunch and starts suggesting a range of activities and exercise options that may get them out of the house for a couple of hours.

Of course, he should’ve guessed that Dean would decide to torture himself with another session at the shooting range, and, although, Sam is hugely apprehensive about a repeat performance of yesterday’s disaster, he sticks to his resolution to do whatever Dean asks to do that day and they head out.

All the way there Sam is on pins and needles, forcing himself to keep a cool head and light mood. He knows, he is trying too hard by the way Dean shoots him small amused glances while steering them through town, but he can’t help it. He can’t stand the thought of Dean going through another night like the last ( _And he isn’t sure he has the strength to do it either)_. He needs this to be a success.

Half an hour into their practice Sam finally dares to breathe a small sigh of relief. Dean is scoring way better than yesterday and appears to be completely normal. Maybe a little more monosyllabic, but that isn’t unusual for him when he’s tired.

When Sam finally relaxes and concentrates on his own target ~~s~~ , Dean is ready to explode with pent-up tension he’s been trying to hide and lets out an extremely careful, slow breath. 

He must have done a good job at keeping his misgivings under wraps, because Sam seems more at ease and happy now than he has during the rest of the day. Dean had actually been quite content, in spite of his slightly muddled brain. Ever since Sam suggested to get out of the house and to do something, though, Dean’s stomach has been churning uncomfortably and his anxiety levels have been steadily on the rise.

Now Dean’s heart is again racing, his chest is tight, his throat bone-dry and he feels light-headed.

‘ _Aim still totally sucks._ _Might as well throw fucking rocks at anything coming for me instead of shooting….be better off. This is so fucked up. I’m completely useless like this.’_

Dean forces himself to repeat the breathing technique from last night and after a couple of minutes, he feels much calmer and manages a few passable series of shots at a slowly moving target. Sam sees it and responds with a whoop from the next lane over.

“See, _that_ ’s what I’m talking about….just needed some time.” Sam crows, like Dean had just finished off a lunging shifter or ghoul.

“Yeah, Sam….I’m fucking awesome.” Dean grumbles. “As long as whatever we have to hunt moves like a zombie missing a leg.”

“Oh, c’mon, Dean. Even _you_ can't deny you’re doing much better than yesterday.” Sam peers around the wall separating their spaces and grins widely at Dean.

The older brother is struck by the open admiration and elation in Sam’s shining eyes and the rock-steady confidence in his tone. Dean feels oddly bolstered by this outpouring of positive energy from his little brother and he can’t help shaking his head and smirking a little sarcastically.

“I guess, it’ll do….if you promise you only take me to gank demon-possessed turtles at first.”

“Whatever, dude….keep going, so I can make you eat your words later.” Sam laughs and they both go back to their practice.

By the end of their session Sam behaves like Dean’s won the Olympic gold medal, talking excitedly and grinning from ear to ear. And even Dean can’t help but to be slightly mollified by his improvement, although he has no illusions about being anywhere close to useful on a hunt, noting how his hands, arm and shoulder muscles are trembling and aching from the exertion.

Still, eager get back into shape, now that there seems to be a glimmer of hope that everything isn’t permanently lost, Dean suggests they go straight to the outdoor range for the more life-like moving target practice meant for game hunters.

“I don’t know, Dean.” Sam cautions as he gestures around him. “You sure, we shouldn’t stick to this right here a couple more days?”

He can plainly see the rough shape Dean is in, from the faint tremors in his hands to the little jerking motions of his head as he tries to ease the tightness in neck and shoulders. However, also blazingly clear is Dean’s fervor and steely resolve to push himself, if need be to the very edge, or over it. _Stubborn idjit._

Excitement over Dean’s progress today is battling with fear of another setback for his brother and as much as Sam wants to encourage Dean, watch him triumph, and hates the thought of dampening his brother’s returning good mood, the risk of him running headlong into another confidence crushing situation is too much to take. Reminding himself of what the doctors and Lisa had said to him about patience and easing Dean in, he makes up his mind.

“Let’s just pack it in for today, ok?” He asks and steps out of the stand, but Dean doesn’t follow.

Instead he slaps a new magazine into his Colt with a loud snap and an icy chill runs down Sam’s spine at the menacing sound. He swallows hard and turns slowly schooling his face into a wide-eyed questioning expression. 

“Uhm, not ready to go yet?” 

“No, Sam, I _want_ to try.” Dean says in a flat tone, face almost expressionless. “Can’t get better, if I don’t go for it.”

I get that, man, I do. But you already _have_ gotten better today. Why not take that as a good thing and save the rest for tomorrow?” Sam tries to keep his tone light and even, but his stomach flutters with trepidation.

"Don’t….” Dean’s voice drops in volume but gains an intense edge as his eyes and mouth harden. “Sam, don’t treat me like an idiot or an invalid. I can do whatever the _fuck_ I want.”

_Crap, careful now…._

“Totally…you can….” Sam agrees affably still maintaining his casual tone and keeping his face as friendly and open as he can make it. He knows the slightest sign of condescension or pity will make Dean run or lash out.

“I’m not _keeping_ you from doing it. And I am not treating you any differently than you would treat me.”

Dean lifts his chin slightly and narrows his eyes at Sam. “How’s that?”

“Trying to protect you. Help you to see that overdoing it ain’t helping anything….just gets you frustrated or injured.” Sam says in a tone so neutral he could be reading a menu. “You know you’d do the same for me.”

Dean grinds his teeth, unwilling to admit that Sam is right, of course, and unable to let this go. He feels an almost desperate need to prove to himself ( _and Sam)_ that he can do this - that he isn’t useless.

_He can fucking look out for himself. He knows when damned well is enough! He doesn’t need Sam to play mother hen._

“That’s not….I don’t…. It’s not _your_ job.” He growls heatedly, but is surprised to see deep sadness spread over Sam’s features instead of the righteous anger he expected and it takes some of the hot air out of his sails. _What the fuck? Why is Sam hurt by this? It’s always been my job….to look out for him._

The younger man’s tone is quiet but no less assured when he continues.

“If you absolutely want to do it….today….fine. I am not holding you back. I’m just not sure you’re doing yourself any favors here, man.”

That has Dean’s hackles rise again.

“So, you think I’ll _suck_ at it _?”_ Dean inquires in a mocking tone. “Is that what I need _protection_ from? My own _suckiness?_ ”

Sam can feel his irritation rise hot and fast, but there’s an equally quickly growing sorrow at his brother’s attempt to goad him into a fight instead of talking to him openly and that keeps his irritation at bay. He doesn’t want to argue with Dean. Knows that he can’t win when Dean is snapping around him like an injured and cornered wild animal fighting for survival. He wants Dean to come to the conclusion himself that there is no urgency to push himself so hard.

 _But dammit if it wasn’t easier to beat that into Dean than convince him with logic._     

Sam huffs out a long sigh and leans against the wall looking somberly at his brother.

“Dean, c’mon, man. I’m _not_ thinking that. And I’m _not_ saying no. ‘M just asking ‘ _why today’?”_

Sam’s brows are drawn together and his eyes tight at the corners as he is struggling for the right words to get through Dean’s thick skull.

“Remember, how _you_ taught me to always end with a _good_ experience in training? Why don’t you do the same? We had a great session. What’s the rush to push yourself?”

Dean still glares at Sam, jaw flexing tightly, but Sam can see the doggedness slowly slip from his brother’s gaze, so he keeps going. Keeping his distance so as not to crowd Dean, he simply softens his voice and pleads.

“Listen, we _both_ haven’t done any moving targets….for a while. Why not start fresh? Huh? Another day?”

The last of Dean’s anger evaporates at the care and concern clearly evident in his brother’s expression and tone.

_What is he doing snapping at Sam like that? Serves him right to have Sammy throw his own lessons back at him. Kid’s too smart… And, sure, he’s right, too. There’s no rush….they have….time, don’t they? Probably for the first time ever….there’s no immediate danger….no need to charge into a fight. Hell, there isn’t anything **to** fight at the moment. But that’s also the problem, isn’t it. He **is** the fight, the mission, the shield. So….now, what? Fuck! _

Unease rolls through Dean like a tidal wave, but he catches himself and firmly takes a mental step back from the black whirlpool starting to open up in front of him.

_‘OK, one step at a time here.’ Dean thinks. ‘This ain’t helping. For now…I gotta find a way to chill….. Just one problem with that brilliant plan….I don’t fucking know how…never much had the opportunity to take a break on purpose.’_

By the tired roll of one shoulder and the way Dean scrubs a hand over his mouth with a deep sigh Sam knows he’s won – for today – although it doesn’t fill him with joy as it comes with a clear air of defeat from his brother, that makes guilt wash through his veins stinging like acid.

“Fine, Sammy, yeah, we can do it tomorrow….or whatever.” He looks at his brother with a small apologetically smile for a quick moment, but then lowers his eyes and starts to pack his gear.

The bland, slightly helpless look in Dean’s eyes sends another cold jolt of remorse through Sam, but also reignites his anger at himself for apparently not being able to handle this better.

Deciding that for now, all he can do is to keep his attitude in check and stick to business, he quickly offers.

“Let me see, when they have a time slot open, ok? I’ll meet you by the car.”

After Dean simply grunts his assent, Sam quickly heads to the front office of the facility and makes a reservation for the surprisingly popular outdoor shooting range two days later.

Neither of them speaks much on the ride back to the house, but Sam can feel that Dean’s mood is simply a quiet and contemplative one instead of the brooding anger he was projecting earlier and he decides to leave him to it instead of forcing a conversation that could easily escalate into another argument.

Dean’s thoughts on how to accomplish the feat of relaxing and taking it easy on himself for the next day ~~s~~ is interrupted by his cell buzzing in his pocket. He stares at it for a moment in surprise, but then picks it up.

“Lisa?”

“Hey Dean.”

“Wha’t up?”

“Not much. Just checking in.”

“Uhu.”

“Well, aren’t you Mr. Chatty. What’re you doing?”

“We’re on the way home from the shooting range.”

Sam looks in his direction disapprovingly and makes a little ‘ _give her more’_ gesture with his hand. Dean scowls a little and then rolls his eyes.

“Oh, great, how was it today?” Lisa asks and Dean’s scowl at Sam deepens. _Today? She knows about yesterday? Had Sam told her? Well, duh…obviously._

“Better….” He says slowly and tried to figure out if it actually bothers him to know that Sam and she talked.

“Glad to hear it. When I called Sam yesterday he told me that you weren’t really thrilled with your first try.”

“Yeah, you can say that. It’s just….well, it went better today.”

“Alright, that’s good, right? Just need to keep at it and you’ll be back to your old level in no time. Like with everything else in life. Hey, how about dinner? I’ll be back around 6 tonight.”

And just like that, in the most matter of fact manner, she is done with that part of their conversation and talking about food and Ben’s pick up from the bus and plans for tomorrow instead.

Dean reflects for a moment how odd it is to see that something so vital and central to his and Sam’s existence like the ability to protect each other and defend their own lives ranks no higher than the organization of a meal for the family to her.  She takes his implied lack of skill completely at stride just like Sam had, apparently not questioning its temporary status in the slightest. Which makes Dean wonder again, if _he_ is in fact the screwed up one with the wrong perspective here?

As they hang up Dean is left with an unsettling mix of emotions – on the one hand he feels uncomfortably yanked from his old life and all that was easy and known to him and on the other hand a small spark of excitement starts to catch in his chest that _maybe_ there actually _is_ another way to live….for them.

 _Could he shed his old skin? Learn a new way of living?_ _Did he want to? Was the ingrained paranoia, that often seemed the only tangible legacy his dad had left him, going to let him relax?_  

He has no ready answers for any of these new ideas, but is contemplating them on and off for the rest of the day.

By the time he enters their bedroom after ~~a~~ the great meal he prepared and the surprisingly enjoyable and light-hearted conversation, much of which they attribute to Ben’s enthusiastic recounting of his week at camp, Dean feels like the fog and gloom from yesterday and this morning has finally lifted and his view has cleared a little.

He’s far from having it all figured out, but he now has a modicum of real hope that there is a way forward that doesn’t lead them straight back to Hell and misery.

Sam is already settled in bed and watches Dean with sleepy eyes as his brother gets ready for bed and then steps up to his and sits down on the edge next to him.

Dean tentatively extends his hand and then splays it wide over his brother’s heart for a moment quite sure that he will make a mess of things, if he tries to summarize his jumble of thoughts into words. Sam is quietly watching him with soft, wide eyes, a tiny smile playing at the corner of his mouth.

Finally Dean leans down and pulls Sam’s t-shirt aside at the neck, before laying a few gentle kisses on the smiley-marked shoulder.

Then he straightens up a little to look down at Sam’s stunningly trusting face and he whispers hoarsely.

“You and me, Sammy. You hear? It’s important.” 

Sam nods tightly, moisture making his vision swim. Before Dean can disappear behind his cloud of thoughts again, Sam pulls his big brother down tightly against him until they slot together perfectly and both sigh deeply in relief.

Sleep drags them under in moments and…..almost….lets them rest through the night.

Until Sam is ripped out of sleep by a harsh gasp and quiet moan from his brother.


	5. COUNSEL

A couple of days later Lisa stands at the counter whipping up pancake batter, when Sam enters the kitchen.

“Hey.” He greets her.

“Hey yourself. Sleep well?” She banters back as has become their custom over the last few mornings.

Ever since her and Ben have returned from their separate trips out of town the household has settled into a surprisingly easy routine and she cherishes every moment of it, acutely aware how short lived it might be. Both brothers seem to be at ease here, fit in with her and Ben so well that is seems like it’s always been like this – the four of them. However, she also knows that the Winchesters don’t stay in one place for long, that a case or some supernatural disaster could draw them away any day now. Lisa can’t quite face to think about the consequences their sudden departure would have on her and Ben’s life. Of course, she can clearly see that Dean is by no means completely back to his old self or full strength, but he _is_ on a steady road to recovery nevertheless and she has no doubt in her mind that he would charge into action, if he is called on.

 _’Nothing I can do about it this second.’_ She chides herself unwilling to let any moment she has with the guys be soured by useless worries.

Instead Lisa turns and smiles up at Sam, ready for their quick good morning kiss, that has also become routine, but  she stops and her smile fades when she sees his face. Apprehension gathers thick in her throat. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” Sam reassures her quickly and steps close for a brief hug and a warm peck on the lips, feeling guilty for worrying her in the first place. He also takes comfort, however, at the fact again that he doesn’t have to deal with this the usual Winchester way – bury, ignore and move on.

She scowls at him with perfect “mom face” and tries once more. “Sam, you look like crap warmed over, so I’ll ask again – what’s wrong?”

He chuckles. “Don’t _mom_ me, Lis.”

“Well, then don’t bullshit _me.”_ She grins at him and starts back with the batter. “So, seriously, Sam, what’s up?”

He huffs out a sigh and leans against the counter watching her work. He tries to put into words, what he can’t really put his finger on – the feeling that the other shoe hasn’t dropped yet, that something is still waiting in the wings to kick his ass and he’s not prepared for it.

“He’s having nightmares. Bad ones.” Sam scrubs his hands through his hair.

“Hhhm, and that’s something new?” Lisa inquires thoughtfully, glancing up to gauge his reaction. She can’t imagine that nightmares are a rare occurrence with hunters and knowing even just a little bit of Sam and Dean’s particular history, she would be surprised if they _did_ sleep soundly.

“No,” Sam admits heavily. “Not new. Just….it’s….hard to watch…and…..”

Sam suddenly remembers the time after Dean came back to him after his stint in Hell and how long it had taken his pig-headed brother then to open up to him and give him even the briefest glance at the depth of his helpless despair. The mere thought of those days and the weight Dean had been carrying make Sam’s gut clench in misery.

He jerks out of his thoughts, when Lisa puts a warm hand on his cheek.

“Sam, talk to me?” She asks softly.

“Sorry, Lis. I was just hoping that he’d be better now that he’s back…. _with_ us. But he is clearly still working through some major shit and he….he….talks in his sleep.” Sam halts for a moment, suddenly unsure how much to disclose. He looks at Lisa finding nothing but concern and sympathy in her dark brown eyes and his heart skips a beat at the warmth spreading through him at her obvious interest and support. He takes a deep breath and lets go of his own worry to overload her or expose Dean in some way.

“He talks about you and me – or better he talks _to_ you and me – calling for us, looking for us…I think. Ben, too. Sometimes he’s warning us…..telling us….that we should….stay away…. Other time he sounds so…. _lost_ …..and is talking about things from our past, people we lost.”

Lisa can see Sam’s face tightening in worry for his brother and guilt that he is failing him in some way and she feels her heart constrict in sympathy for him and for the man they both love. But she also knows by now that Sam isn’t looking for simple consoling when he comes to her with concerns for his brother. Sam needs advice or at least an opinion, an exchange of ideas to see a way forward. It is one thing she admires about him greatly; his ability and determination to set his roiling emotions aside to look at any situation logically and analyze possible next steps. She loves the fact that he feels trusting enough with her to fully involve her in the process.

So instead of wrapping her arms around him to comfort and soothe him, she swallows almost audibly and asks.      

“What do you do then?”

“I talk to him. Try to wake him or reassure him.” Sam continues. “We were always able to do that for each other…..but he’s somehow…..stuck….again….or something. I don’t know. He seems determined to think that he’s alone or needs to be alone and that we’re out of reach or leaving him or something. But he won’t talk about it when he’s awake.”

Lisa scoffs a little and sighs. “Yeah, and that’s not new either, I imagine.”

Sam looks up at her and the smallest of smiles is playing around the corner of his mouth.

“Bingo! Dean Winchester is _not_ discussing ‘emo crap’ until his life depends on it and then _only_ reluctantly.”

“I figured.” Lisa nods “So he isn’t like that just with me.”

“Noooope. He’s got a patent on the mastery of repression.”

“Well, ok then, we just gotta figure a way to crack him open somehow to look at his gooey insides.” Lisa says in a mock serious tone and Sam chuckles tiredly at that.

“I am all ears for good ideas.” He scrubs his hands down is face and yawns widely.

“I’d start with a nap. You look like you haven’t gotten a good night’s rest in days.”

He blinks slowly, proving her point and she thinks again that she’d give the world to take some of the burden off of him and shoulder it herself, but Dean hasn’t made any move in that direction yet, still sticking closely to Sam as if afraid that he could disappear at any moment.

Sam takes a deep breath and straightens out of his slouch, smiling at her.

“Wish I could.” He shakes his head. “I’m just….fuck, I’d love to flip the magic switch and get him back to normal, you know?”

“Of course, I know.” She says somberly and then stretches on her tip toes and kisses his lips lightly.  “Patience, Sam. It’ll happen.” 

Suddenly an idea occurs to her.  “Hey, don’t you owe Kappi another visit? For follow up and stuff?”

“HA”, Sam barks a laugh, “Yeah, that’ll be the day that Dean lets me take him to another Psychic now that he is awake. Especially when she probably wants to look into his head again.”

“Ok, I know you said he’s not really comfortable with that type of practice, but _you_ can’t deny that it helped him, right?!”

“Well, sure, but….”

“You just gotta find a way to convince him.” She says lightly.

“You say that so easily….have you _met_ Dean?”

She narrows her eyes at him again, lifting the spatula she had just taken out of the drawer and he lifts is hands in surrender quickly. “OK, OK….I’ll give is a shot….but you better keep the Band-aids ready when he starts spitting and clawing…”

She laughs freely at that thought imagining themselves man-handling a squirming Dean into the Impala to be taken to Kappi by force.

“I’ll back you up all the way, partner.” She drawls and hugs Sam again, letting his big warm frame envelop her for a moment. 

As Lisa busies herself with the last preparations for breakfast, Sam grabs a cup of coffee and lets his mind wander as he stirs milk and sugar into it.

He loves seeing Dean getting a little bit better every day. He had become more communicative, more alert, less somber and withdrawn in his interactions with Ben and Lisa and when they were alone….together….well…. Sam feels heat rise in his cheeks as he thinks about their explorations of the past few days and the way Dean’s enthusiasm and enjoyment of it was so free and so unhindered. But at the same time he feels bad for Lisa, who had continued her never-failing support and care of them both, without asking anything in return. Of course, Sam isn’t blind. He can clearly see the longing glances Lisa directs at Dean, when he is otherwise occupied, and the way she is seeking Sam’s closeness and contact more and more often. She is clearly lonely, probably slightly suspicious at way Dean stays close to him and definitely sad about her perceived exclusion from Dean’s mental healing process.

Sam keeps trying hard to include her, create opportunities for Dean and Lisa to be alone, trying to create some space to make something happen, get her the new start she most definitely deserves, but so far he’s had as much luck with that as he has getting Dean to open up about the night terrors. Although, Dean is definitely attracted to Lisa and behaves in an easy, relaxed manner around her, he hasn’t initiated anything further yet and that worries Sam.

_No wonder I feel like I’ve been run over by a steamroller. I am constantly playing negotiator and life coach and match maker. AND I get the shit kicked outta me every night by Dean. This has to stop._

He promises himself to have a talk with Dean about Lisa and how he’d really need to either make a try for it or at least talk to her about the future.

Sam sighs and moves to set the table for breakfast. _Yeah, more negotiating….coming right up._

Moments later Dean ambles into the kitchen and heads straight to the coffee maker, not noticing that Sam and Lisa exchange a loaded glance across the room.

“Mornin’”, Sam greets him in a light tone but watches Dean’s every move like he is keeping a wary eye on a monster he’s stalking.

“Mmmph”, comes the unintelligible response from Dean who pours a cup for himself, but doesn’t look at either of them. He stays by the sink and stares out of the window into the yard, while he nurses his coffee.

The other two can clearly see how worn and tired he looks this morning. Dark circles under his eyes from lack of sleep as he absentmindedly rubs a hand across the back of his neck trying to ease his stiff muscles and lets out a deep sigh.

“Hey, Dean?” Sam starts a little reluctantly.

“”M fine.” The older Winchester grumbles, still without turning. 

Sam bites his lip and looks comically desperate to Lisa, who makes a not too subtle “go on” gesture with her hand and nods encouragingly.

“Uuuhm, Dean? What’d’ya say about….” Sam starts again when Dean whirls around.

“I said, I’m _fine_ , Sam.” He growls. “Would you give it a rest…” His expression is dark and dangerous, but Sam can also see a clear plea in his brother’s tired eyes not to press on.

Before anything else can be said Ben bounces into the kitchen, slamming his backpack onto the table and sinking into one of the chairs with a dramatic sigh, oblivious to the tense atmosphere in the room as he exclaims. “Today’s gonna _SUCK_!”

The three adults take a beat to reorganize their expressions and emotions into a neutral state and turn toward the frowning kid.

“Why’s that, Hon?” Lisa enquires quickly and pours Ben some orange juice.

“’Cause Craig’s Dad’ll drop him off again and everyone’s freakin’ obsessed with his _car_.” Ben complains sourly.

“Language, young man!” Lisa chides and slides the first stack of pancakes onto his plate.

“But it’s _true._ ” He whines. “They don’t _get it!”_

“Don’t get what?” Sam chimes in and takes the seat opposite from Ben with a quick glance to Dean, who is still standing by the sink, looking slightly abashed at his outburst.

“That the car is _laaaame!_ “ Ben intones theatrically while he makes a big dismissive hand gesture. “They’re all getting bent out of shape over a stupid Porsche Cayenne. Totally generic. Nothing special about it. They have _no_ appreciation for the classics.” 

Sam bites the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at Ben, who suddenly reminds him of Dean at that age and his endless speeches about the Impala Sam had to endure from his big brother.

Before Sam can think of something supportive to say, Ben straightens up from his slouch with a bright, excited grin. “Dean!” He all but shouts.

“Huh?” Dean looks slightly alarmed as he shifts his full attention to the boy.

But Ben forges on, looking like he just solved all the world’s problems. “Now that you’re back with the living, you can drive, right? Wanna drive me to school? Show them what a _real_ car looks like?”

Dean blinks a couple of times in surprise, while Lisa divides the next pile of pancakes between his and Sam’s plates and then turns to Ben.

“Ben, I’m not sure Dean’s gonna have time to…” She starts.

“Maybe, I can…” Sam tries at the same time.

“Yeah, sure, I’ll take you….” Dean’s voice is slightly gruff, but warm, and cuts through the other’s voices easily.

“Uhm, Dean, you sure?” Sam inquires carefully. “You don’t even know where the school is…”

He stops mid-sentence at the glowers both Ben and Dean shoot him, comically similar to each other.

“Really, Sam? You worried I’ll get _lost?_ ” Dean asks incredulously, not comprehending or appreciating his brother’s coddling.

“I can show him.” Ben assures the room at large, quickly worried his good fortune will disappear in a moment, when victory over his “arch enemy” at school is finally at hand.

A beat of silence falls over the group as they all look at each other in turn.

“Alright.” Dean finally breaks it and sits down. “What time do we gotta leave?”

The mood instantly lightens when Ben chats animatedly at Dean about the Impala and a variety of other vintage models. Dean does his best to keep up with the myriad of questions and opinions flowing out of the excited ten-year-old and he feels oddly at peace. This he knows.  This he’s sure of. Every once in a while he catches Sam’s eye, who is getting a kick out of seeing his brother so engaged and in his element that he practically glows with it; or Lisa’s who sits back and smiles contentedly at the homey scene in her kitchen.

_This is good. Family gathered for breakfast. Normal everyday stuff._

\------------------

A little while later, Dean settles into the driver seat of his Baby and Ben slides reverently into shotgun position, letting his hands glide across the supple leather of the front bench made smooth as silk from over 40 years of use.

“This is _aaaawesome!”_ He exclaims and looks at Dean with stars in his eyes _. “_ Maybe I can _drive_ it one day?”

Dean chuckles at the kid’s enthusiasm and obvious appreciation for his most prized possession.

“Well, first off _it_ is a _she,_ buddy. And then, what’dya say you get to legal age first, ok?”

“What age were you, when you first drove _her?”_ Ben pronounces the last word carefully while still petting the leather seats.

_Touché, the smart little brat got him there!_

Dean thinks back to the day his Dad had let him take his first try at the Impala. He’d been 13 at the time and now it seems to him like it was probably a test, if he was responsible enough to handle it, as well as a treat for a job well done during their last hunt. Dean had been convinced it would be a piece of cake, having watched his Dad drive the big boat of a car for so many years with nothing but casual ease. He found out quickly, though, that he was completely wrong about her and that he was, in fact, ill equipped to drive her. The Impala had felt _alive_ under his hands and around him, when he started her up and self-assuredly put his foot on the gas for the first time. She had bucked hard and tried to get away from him with a roar like an angry tiger on a leash and it took all his strength to keep ahold of the wheel and screech her to a halt again.

“Whoa, son, easy there! You gotta be a little more gentle, ok? There is a lot of power under the hood.” His Dad had chided, but then clapped him on the shoulder encouragingly. “Let’s try again.”

 _Lesson learned_. It had become crystal clear to him that day and never left him since that the Impala may be a machine, but you couldn’t force or manhandle her into doing anything. If you wanted the best out of her, you had to ask, coax and treat her well. Much like a Wild Mustang, Baby was temperamental and needed to be handled with caution and understanding, but once you got her cooperation she would run until her heart exploded. She had never let him down once.

Something deep inside of Dean shifts and awakens at the thought of being able to impart his knowledge and love for the Impala to yet another generation with Ben.

_‘Not gonna be that easy, though. Kid’s gonna have to earn it.’_

Dean smiles inwardly, but counters Ben in a deadpan tone.

“Old enough to handle her.”

“Yeah? Bet you weren’t _legal_ age.” Ben challenges.

“Let’s just say I was strong enough to keep control of her.” Dean shoots back.

“I’m _strong!”_ Ben flexes his arm at Dean pulling the T-Shirt up to showcase his biceps. “Bet I _could_ , if you’d let me?”

Dean bites the inside of his bottom lip to keep from laughing. He remembers his own eagerness like it was yesterday and Ben definitely reminds him of that time, in fact, he reminds him a lot of himself.

“K, man, I’ll make you a deal: you get strong enough to gimme 50 pushups and are at least 14, we can _talk_  about it again. How’s that?”

“ _Whaaaat?_ I have to wait four more _years_?” Ben’s head drops to his chest in a gesture of supreme misery.

“Oh, that’s all? You’re already at 50 pushups?” Dean mocks him good-naturedly. 

Ben looks up at him, deflated. “Noooo. I can maybe do….ten?”

At that Dean finally guffaws and pats Ben on the shoulder a couple of times until the Boy shrinks sideways into the seat from the force, but doesn’t complain.

“Well then, you better start training. Got ‘nuf time.” He grins at Ben. “But now, you better co-pilot me to that school of yours or you’ll be late and we both get our necks wrung by your mom.”

“Naaaw, we’re still early.” Ben looks at his watch and then buckles in. “But we do need to get a move on, if we want to beat Craig’s Dad there.”

Dean turns the key in the ignition and sighs contentedly when she comes alive with a roar before settling into her usual deep-throated rumble.

“So, where to, Luke?” He quips and is surprised when Ben fires back immediately.

“Luke is lame, I am SO Han Solo.”

“In your dreams, kid! I own the transport, I am Han.” Dean states with supreme confidence.

“Fine. Whatever.” Ben relents and Dean has to laugh again, pleased with the child’s easy comfort around him.

As Ben gives him directions and rambles on about _who knows what_ , Dean reflects that they have barely spent any time together since he met Ben, and what time they had was mostly filled with immense stress and terror for the kid, fighting monsters and having Dean bark orders at him. Dean had been impressed by Ben back then. His determination not to lose his head, his instinct to get done what needed doing and the ability to push aside the nightmarish reality around him in order to help others. Dean remembers being oddly proud of the boy who should have been _nothing_ to him other than the kid of a friend and long-ago-lover.

Still somehow he feels connected to Ben, then and now, and Dean finds himself hoping that they’ll have the chance to get to know each other better.

He slips easily into the big brother role with the kid, it being so ingrained in him, that he doesn’t even have to think about it. But he has to admit to himself that there is some other layer there. Something he can’t quite put his finger on yet. 

When Ben falls uncharacteristically quiet after a few minutes, Dean glances over and sees him staring blankly out of the window, deep in thought.

“Soooo, what’s up?” Dean asks.

“Huh?” Ben blinks up at him.

“Why am I really driving you to school?”

“I told you, I wanna show off the Impala to Craig and his stupid friends.”

“Uh-huh. So Craig and his buddies are not _your_ friends?”

“No.” Ben says shortly, but it completely lacks conviction.

“Do you _want_ them to be your friend?” Dean probes carefully, not quite sure what he is getting himself into, but feeling strongly that Ben had asked him along for reasons other than just a car show, and he wants to help if he can.

“No,” Ben says again, even less convincing.

“Ben?” Dean’s voice carries both an encouraging and a warning tone, which had always worked like a charm on Sammy.

The child sighs deeply and his next words come out in a low angry whisper.

“They used to be…. _my_ friends. But not anymore. They’re just stupid shitheads.”

“Language!” It slips out from Dean in a stern tone before he even consciously thinks about it.

Ben looks up at him sharply a mix of petulance and hope on his round face Dean doesn’t quite know what to do with. But he doesn’t retract his reprimand. It feels right.

“Sorry,” Ben eventually relents. “But it’s true.”

“So, you gonna tell me what happened or do you wanna waste this trip?” Dean keeps his tone neutral.

“Mmmhh, well, there was this fight….a while back….” Ben’s cheeks flush, but Dean can’t tell if it is from anger or embarrassment.

“They jumped you?” He asks assuming Ben had been the victim.

Ben looks at him now with such outrage and hurt on his face that Dean actually straightens in his seat, a little uncomfortable.

“Noooo!” Ben sounds out like he is talking to an idiot. “No one _ever_ gets a jump on me anymore, dude! Don’t you remember….you taught me that, in the park, like, a million years ago. ‘Stand up and kick the bully in the nads _once_ and it’ll stick’?”

Dean is stunned by that. Both tickled pink by the fact that something he gave Ben casual advice over had stuck with the kid all this time and horrified that is was _that_ particular nugget of wisdom.

_But if it helps the kid to gain some respect…..what the hell! How bad could it be, really._

“Sorry, Ben,” Dean grins at him now, “my bad….shouldn’t ‘ve jumped to conclusions. So, you’re saying _you_ started a fight….about something?”

Ben appears mollified and nods. “Yeah, we were all hanging at the playground, like always after school, and Craig started picking on Jordan again. He’d been talking trash about Jordan for a few days….guess he felt intimidated somehow. Can’t see why, really….but whatever.”

Dean tries hard to keep up with Ben’s convoluted narration. “So this Jordan dude is a friend of yours, too, and the others bullied him?”

“Her.”

“Huh?”

“Jordan is a girl. She is a year above us. But she’s cool.” Ben states nonchalantly.

“Oh, ok.”  He isn’t sure what else to say to that, but Ben is on a roll. 

“Doesn’t really fit in with her class, I guess, and she hangs out at the same park like us, so we kinda started talking. Mostly just her and me. And I like her. I thought it was all peachy, but then the others, well, Craig really, started calling her mean names like ‘beanstalk girl’ and ‘skeletor’ and sh…stuff like that. She got all sad and so I told Craig to stop.”

“Lemme guess….he didn’t?”

“Nope. And the others joined in, too. It got ugly. I couldn’t let that stand, Dean.” The last comes out more like a question, a kid looking for reassurance from a…. _what? Friend, brother, elder….parent?_

 _“_ Hm,” he grunts non-committal, waiting to make an informed decision by the end of the tale. “Go on.”

“Well, so I made my statement.” Ben said proudly puffing out his chest. “Only took the one time, just like you told me. Kicked their asses good, Dean. They never tried anything like that again.”

Again Dean had to fight hard against the rising laughter in his chest. _The kid is unbelievable. And he couldn't really retract something now that he had told him two years ago with full conviction. So he might as well stick with it._ Dean decides.

“So, you got their respect….that’s good, Ben. Not an easy thing with odds of….what?”

“Three to one!” Ben supplies quickly and then laughs at the way Dean’s eye brows shoot up and his eyes widen in surprise.

“Huh,” he nods with an impressed expression, “Proud of you.”

Ben beams at him.

“Then _what_ happened after that; they’re not your friends anymore?” Dean continues and hates the way his words drain the joy out of Ben’s face in a hurry.

“Don’t need asshole friends like that.” Ben growls with a pinched face and Dean refrains from calling him out on his choice of words again….. _cause, it’s true…._

“Yeah, well, can’t argue with that, man, but…..what are we doing here trying to impress a bunch of brain-dead bullies?” Dean pushes. “Seems to me, you got nothing else to prove to them.”

“They’re not _all_ bad.” Ben mumbles and plays agitatedly with an AC/DC pin on his backpack.

Dean waits a moment as they drive on, but when the silence stretches, he finally sighs.

“Ben, buddy, I wanna help….if I can…..but, man, you gotta give me the full story here. You asked me along for a reason, right? So, spill….and we can make a battle plan, ok?”

Ben’s face turns back to Dean and he studies him for a moment, obvious doubt and trust and hope and worry warring behind his eyes, which look way too adult for Dean’s taste. The expression reminds him painfully of Sammy at that age – a kid who knew too much, had seen too much, was too aware of the ugly and dark side of life already to be innocent anymore. Dean keeps his own face open and encouraging, making sure he conveys to Ben that he is taking his concerns seriously.

And then finally Ben nods and gives him the rest of the story.

“Yeah, well, Craig is really the asshat in it all and Mack and Pete don't have enough brains between them to know any better. But Olli and Steve…they’re different. We’ve always been really close. Like the same music and movies and games and vintage cars and all that, you know?”

Dean just nods.

“So when we had the fight, Steve wasn’t there that day and Jordan had run off, and Olli – he’s the smallest of us all – I guess, got scared or something, so he kinda stayed out of it. I dunno. Probably smart, but I was PISSED. Anyhow, so when Craig, Mack and Pete were all down, I kinda screamed at Olli for being a coward and he took off, too. Craig ran to his dad like a baby and cried about his bloody nose and how I was a menace blah blah.”

Not wanting to make another wrong assumption, Dean asked. “Did Craig’s dad talk to your mom? Or the school?”

“Naw, I think he doesn’t want anyone to know that his precious son got beaten up…. Craig is, like, the star athlete at school and his dad was some bigshot Football Player, like, a hundred years ago, so they don’t wanna ‘screw that up’.” He says with a sneer and air quotes.

Remembering his own school days, Dean shakes his head sadly. Fact is - no matter how many towns and schools they’d been to, the story remains the same from one end of the country to the other. Jocks and Geeks, Cheerleaders and Freaks - the labels might vary, but the pecking order and the experiences kids have to go through are always the same. 

“But Craig’s dad didn’t allow him to use the school bus anymore. _I_ think Craig is afraid of me, but he says it’s because his dad thinks that a _real_ father takes care of his son and they can spend more time together when he drives him. What a crock of sh….dooey.” Ben scoffs. “Why is he driving Mack and Pete then, too, huh? And it’s _not_ because they are all on the Football Team together, like Craig claims.”

“All three aren’t using the school bus anymore? What about Olli and Steve?” Dean inquires and his heart goes out to Ben as he slowly sees the problem emerging.

“They live too close to school and take their bikes or walk.” Ben explains. “So, Craig makes sure he’s always _there_ with his dad and the other two, when the school bus arrives and _always_ before Olli and Steve get there. And then they all ooh and ahh about the stupid Porsche Craig’s dad drives or one of the other 3 cars he has….believe me they are _all_ new and shiny and sporty and _totally boring._ And then Craig sticks with the other guys all day, talking about all the stuff he has and places he’s been and things his dad’ll do with them all. Like I care.”

“Uh-huh, but why are Olli and Steve hanging out with Craig? Did you talk to them?”

“Yeah, I did. Even apologized to Olli for screaming at him. Took back the coward comment and all. It was good for a few days, we kinda separated from the other three and just hung out with Jordan.”

Dean nods in approval, again feeling proud of Ben’s solid common sense and a cooler head than he had himself at that age. 

“And then you moved in and I thought things could finally change and I started talking about you and the Impala and how much cooler it is than any of Craig’s dad’s cars. But they didn’t believe me, thought I made you up. And Craig said that no one in their right mind would drive a 1967 Impala on a regular basis. That is was a car for old people and vintage car shows. That it’s antique and couldn’t compete in today’s market. What the hell does that even mean…..can you believe it?”

Dean is so taken aback by the first part of Ben’s statement that he completely misses the rest of the kid’s ramble.

_Sam had moved him into Lisa’s house more or less comatose. They’ve had no clear plan for the future, were simply in need of help and rest, with no clue if Dean’s condition was permanent or curable. But none of that seemed to have bothered Ben any. He seemingly assumed that this was just a temporary situation and that Dean was there to stay. So he had started to plan him (and Baby) into his future and staked some friendships on it._

This touched Dean deeply in some unexplored part of his heart and soul.

_What had he done to deserve this level of trust from the kid? Or is Ben simply so desperate for a father figure that he rushed into his own little fantasy world constructing a life for them as a family?_

Dean wasn’t at all sure that this was sitting right with him. At least not yet. And definitely not without Sam in the picture. But he quickly let that go and concentrated on Ben’s current problem.

Worrying that they’ll run out of time and road before Ben gets to the real point here, Dean cuts in and sums up.

"OK, I think I get it.”  He states in a matter of fact voice. “Craig’s a dick. We don’t like his rich father or dumbass buddies. You want Olli and Steve back as friends, and Baby and me are here to put on a freakin’ show, so they believe you and we can settle this thing?”

Ben stares at him with wide eyes at the use of previously restricted words and Dean’s take it or leave it attitude. Then his face breaks into a huge grin and holds up his hand for a high five as he crows.

“HELL, YEAH!”

“OK, let’s _do_ this and _screw_ them all!” Dean shouts like he is charging into battle and slaps Ben’s hand, before continuing in a much quieter more serious tone, “But if you tell your mom, I’ll have to skin ya and they’ll never be a repeat performance. Clear?” 

“Totally.” Ben is still grinning like Christmas has just combined with his Birthday.

Just then a school bus pulls out in front of Dean at the traffic light and Ben instructs. “Follow that bus and when it pulls in, it’ll split off to the left and you can go straight to the big Oak Tree. That’s where Craig’s dad usually parks.”

“Show time.” Dean waggles his eyebrows and shoots his cockiest grin at Ben. He turns up the music to concert level, just as AC/DC’s Highway to Hell starts to play and slides on a pair of shades, before rolling down his window and settling lower into the seat of the Impala, letting his arm hang out, patting the warm metal of the door.

Ben lets out a delighted laugh, but then sobers up and imitates Dean’s moves to the passenger side. 

As the bus turns left, just inside the school grounds, Dean revs the engine and makes the tires squeal slightly on the turn. He speeds up just enough to make sure that Baby is noticed for her menacing growl and ominous appearance as they quickly approach a cluster of kids around a shiny, new, bright-red Mercedes Convertible at the end of the lot.

‘ _Overcompensate much??’_ Dean thinks sarcastically to himself.

All eyes turn to the approaching Impala in an instant and to Dean’s immense satisfaction Baby doesn’t disappoint as a few mouths drop open and the apparent owner of the German sports car slowly takes off his designer sunglasses and stares in their direction with an arrogant expression and narrowed eyes.

Dean notices that the tall, blond, Viking-like figure standing by the gaggle of kids is none other than a well-known, recently retired Dallas Cowboy that he actually used to like watching.

 _‘ **Used to** being the big word here. Pffft - another celebrity turning out to be a dick in real life. What a surprise. Don’t care who the fuck he is - **no one** treating my…my…Ben this way deserves any respect.”_  

A little surprised by the surge of strong feelings over some stupid kid-dick-waving contest, Dean shoots a quick glance at the little guy by his side and finds him grinning back in triumph, which only deepens Dean’s resolve to help him. 

Knowing exactly how to best showcase Baby’s sleek lines and impressive length, Dean pulls her around in a semi-circle and stops directly behind the Mercedes, lazily lifting a hand in an indifferent sort off greeting at the assembled crowd. He pulls down his glasses slightly and rakes a long, slow look over the entire group, not sparing the car a single glance, and then slouches even more in his seat with his best, bored James Dean style posture. Ben looks over at him and thinks that all that’s missing is a cigarette dangling out of his mouth or a gun carelessly resting on the dash to complete the Badass image. He works hard to hide his glee at the fact that his plan had obviously worked, because Craig and the others are simply dumbstruck and staring. Ben could swear that Steven is even drooling a little, but he decides to let that slide, cause the Impala (and Dean) is just _that_ cool.

He quickly whispers in a low tone. “Thanks, Dean, you are awesome!”

Then he hops out of the car and _saunters (Look at you, kid!)_ around the front end of the Impala to Dean’s window, where he says loudly.

“Thanks for the lift, man.”

“Don’t sweat it. Anytime.” Dean drawls and then adds for good measure. “Just lemme know if you need me. I’ll make it happen.”

“Thanks, but I’m fine. See you at home.”

Ben holds his fist up and Dean hesitates only an instant in slight confusion before he bumps it with his and follows Ben’s gesture of opening all of his fingers with a “exploding” flourish.

“Later, kid!” Dean calls as Ben strides past the other kids in the Mercedes group with a short. “Mornin’.”

Dean’s eye is caught by a striking tall, willowy girl standing on the other side of the large oak. Her white blond, long hair, pale complexion and large, wide set, almost violet eyes give her a slightly elfish look that is both intriguing and intimidating in its otherness. As Ben draws up next to her, Dean can see that she is easily six inches taller than the boy, but neither one seems to care about that as they bump shoulders and start walking towards the school entrance together.

 _‘Must be Jordan. Damn, Ben, you know how to pick’em.’_ Dean thinks with another spike of almost paternal pride.

He smiles to himself and pumps the gas to bring his Baby back to glorious life before he peels out of the parking lot with just the right amount of show, not to be stamped as the ‘crazy menace in the dangerous black car’.

His last look into the rearview mirror shows him two kids breaking off from the group and running after Ben and Jordan. Assuming that they are Olli and Steven, Dean whoops and barks a laugh on Ben’s behalf at their apparent success.

“You did good.” He says out loud as much to himself as to Baby, petting her dashboard affectionately as he turns her for home.


	6. POSSIBILITIES

 

Dean still feels slightly giddy from the talk and conspiring with Ben when he pulls back into the drive way.

This extended interaction with the kid had been all new for him and it left him with a confusing jumble of emotions he’s been trying to sort through during the drive home.

There is the surprise of being asked for an assist on such a mundane issue and the joy of being able to help with something other than killing evil sons of bitches. Delight at Ben’s acceptance of him and the new home situation is mixing with concern that Ben is looking for a more conventional family arrangement than Dean would be able to provide. ( _Because Sam and him came in a package deal now more than ever.)_ He feels slightly anxious about having overstepped his boundaries with Lisa by simply acting on Ben’s request and putting on a show at school, but at the same time there is the warm feeling of pride towards Ben that he shared his story with him and showed such mature sense of integrity in the situation.

The biggest and most unsettling realization of all is that he enjoyed the hell out of the whole thing and he wants more of this, but has no clue how to make that happen.

“Hey.” Sam greets from the kitchen table where he is reading the newspaper as Dean steps into the room.

“Hey, yourself.” Dean answers in a light tone and smiles. “Where’s Lisa?”

Sam is glad to see Dean more relaxed than this morning, because he is still fully intending to bring up Kappi and his hope that they’ll go to see her, but he also feels slightly suspicious at the unusual good mood radiating off his brother all of a sudden.

“At work. She had a private lesson before her normal start time.” Sam looks carefully at him trying to get a better read on the state of affairs.

“Good, that’s good.” Dean steps up behind Sam and grasps his shoulders firmly before leaning down and kissing the side of Sam’s neck with simple warm pressure. “Sorry, I snapped at you earlier.”

 _Now all_ of Sam’s alarm bells go off. _What the hell???_

He stares at Dean with narrowed eyes as his brother pours himself another cup of coffee and then sits down at the table with Sam.

“Are you feeling alright?” He asks with open concern.

“Yeah….actually, I am feeling _great.”_ Dean grins at him, confusing the younger brother even more. “Why’d you ask?”

“Uhm, ‘cause you haven’t apologized for something so stupid in….let me see….never?” Sam counters in a careful tone.

“Hm. Well, felt bad about it, wanted to let you know. No big deal.” Dean smiles again and the way it lights up Dean’s still-tired face tugs painfully at Sam’s heart. _What is going on here?_

“I….guess….?” He says still cautious, then making an asserted effort not to dampen Dean’s good mood, he lightens his own tone and asks mockingly. “Should I get used to this….?”

Dean barks a warm laugh. “Ha, never! Would ruin the surprise when I feel like treating you like less of a little bitch.”

Sam grins at the familiar and affectionate insult. “Thought so. Well, at least that proves you’re still sane then and you didn’t turn into a big girl all of a sudden.”

“Nope, Samantha, that will forever remain your job.” Dean quips and Sam rolls his eyes at him.

“Not likely.”

They both take a sip of coffee and Dean contemplates the best way to bring up his thoughts to Sam. Just before he can start, the younger brother asks a little too casually.

“Find the school ok?”

Dean looks over at Sam for a moment, detecting the unspoken question and curiosity in his face and wishing his brother wouldn’t feel the need to walk on eggshells around him anymore. With a little sigh he answers the _other_ question hanging between them.

“It went great with Ben. Really, the kid is hilarious. Little hot headed maybe, but he has a good heart and pretty smart head on his shoulders for his age.”

Feeling slightly embarrassed at being called out, Sam is also hugely relieved to hear that it _did_ go well and that Dean so obviously enjoyed it. He hadn’t been sure, if the whole thing was too much too soon, but he also realizes that he currently has a tendency to overreact and overanalyze every situation that might challenge Dean in some way and he knows that it is becoming apparent and pissing Dean off.

His brother’s words also bring a bright and clear picture of the situation to Sam’s inner eye and he can't hide the mischievous grin breaking over his whole face.

At the sight of his brother’s full-on-dimpled, brilliant smile Dean feels like the sun is breaking free from a bank of clouds and warming him from head to toe relieving the tension that had started to build up between them. Hope and affection so strong it makes him shudder for a moment surge through his body before he can fully concentrate on what Sam is actually saying to him.

“Remind you of anyone….?”

Dean smirks and rubs his chin self-consciously.  “Maybe….a little.”

He doesn’t say or even wants to think about the fact that some of the sadder things about Ben actually remind him of a young Sammy.

Sam laughs just now and inquires.  “So, what did he want you to do?”

Not wanting to betray Ben’s confidence in him, Dean answers carefully.

“Uhm, help him clear up a misunderstanding.”

“Uh-huh, that that involved the Impala….how?”

“Just showing off her awesomeness a little. Making the natives understand her power.”

“I see….and you had nothing to do with that?”

“Just drivin’.” Dean’s tone is blasé as he shrugs one shoulder.

Sam chuckles and shakes his head, because he can tell that he’s not gonna get anything else out of his brother about this and he can appreciate Dean’s resolve on that. Thinking back fondly on the many times Dean had pulled up in the Impala on any given day, in any given town, in front of any given school, to pick Sam up when they were young, especially, if Sam had let slip that someone was giving him a hard time there, he had a pretty clear idea of the _show_ that had taken place at Ben’s school today. Dean had been and continues to be his hero, his rock and his protector and Sam is whole-heartedly happy for Ben to get a taste of this side of Dean now, too.

_No doubt Dean would be a great dad…._

With gratitude welling up hot and fierce in his heart, he reaches over and squeezes Dean’s forearm for a moment tightly.

“I’m sure, he appreciates it as much as I always have.”

They hold each other’s gaze for a moment and Dean feels his eyes go wide and his chest go tight with surprise and incredulity at Sam’s words and the deep emotion and thankfulness shining in his brother’s face.

He nods a couple of times, tightly, and croaks. “Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam squeezes again and then lets go of Dean’s arm.

Before the moment can get away from them and they retreat back in their neutral corners, Dean gathers his courage and says in a quiet voice.

“I like this…. _us_ ….here….with Ben and Lisa.”

“Me, too.” Sam answers without any hesitation as he studies Dean’s face.

“’S kinda nice….like a…family….you know?”

“Yeah, I get it. Remember, I was trying to get you to see that….before….? Thought you really had a chance at something here?”

“Hm, yes, you did. But things changed….a…..bit.”

Sam rumbles another laugh. “They sure have. So what’re you thinking?”

Dean sighs and looks up at Sam a little helplessly. “Dunno. I just….it was cool today….with Ben. And Lisa’s been nothing but great….the whole time, right? And you feel at…at home here, too?”

Sam cocks his head slightly and tries to think what Dean needs most in this moment. _Reassurance or honesty?_ The choice is simple in the end.

“Yeah, sure. I really like it here and been getting along great with Lisa and Ben. But, Dean, are you thinking long term or short term here? Are you willing to give up Hunting for this?” He asks calmly and watches closely for his brother’s reaction.

Dean glances at Sam thoughtfully for a moment and then stares out the window trying to weigh the pros and cons.

“No, I don’t really wanna quit Hunting. It’s what I’m good at. What _we_ are great at, together.” He states slowly. “But, think about it, Sam. Do we really have to? Lisa and Ben already know what we do, what’s out there. Maybe we can make _both_ work.” But just as he says the words out loud that have been buzzing around in his head for the last hour, they ring hollow to his own ears.

_Does he honestly think that it’s ok to put Lisa and Ben in the middle of the crazy Winchester life? NO._

_Is he prepared to have them worry and fear for him and Sam when they would be out Hunting who knows what crazy monster or demon? NO._

_Does he have the right to take what he has secretly wanted for so many years since his mom had died – a real family again – and risk the other’s lives in the process? HELL NO._

But as Dean’s mind goes straight to worry and self-doubt, Sam’s brain jumps into action analyzing and brainstorming options that he had been toying with in secret over the last few weeks. 

Of course, Dean interprets Sam’s prolonged silence as agreement with his inaudible misgivings and starts to back pedal.

“Forget it, Sam. It’s stupid, I know. I’m kidding myself thinking that this has any chance to go anywhere in the long run. I don't even have the right….And it doesn’t even matter….we can always…”

“STOP, Dean.” Sam cuts in sharply, but lowers his voice immediately to a more coaxing tone. “Don’t do that, ok?”

“Do what?” Dean scowls at him.

“Talk yourself out of the idea and shut off any discussion before we even have it.”

“When do I _ever_ ….” Dean counters in an offended tone, but trails off before he can finish.

“Are you serious? It’s your number one go-to move for anything remotely approaching happiness, man.” Sam says quietly a sad note in his voice.

“I…..” Dean’s expression falls as the truth of that hits him, hard. _Well, shit….has it been that obvious? Always?_

“’Sides,” Sam continues more confidently now. “I don’t think we can make any decision about this without Lisa. She has the right to put her two cents in.”

“I don’t know, Sammy.” Dean looks so torn that Sam can practically read his mind. _He wishes he’d kept his mouth shut and just rolled with the punches. Not put out there that he is actually hoping for anything like an even halfway normal life. Thinks he doesn't deserve it. Doesn’t want to pull anyone down with him. Goddammit, Dean, why can't I make you see that it is exactly what you deserve? Take a little for yourself. Claim your own happiness. You’ve given enough already._

Sam lays his hand against Dean’s neck and let’s his thumb slide along his stubbled jaw.

“Listen, Dean, there’s _nothing wrong_ with putting this on the table for us to consider, ok? I’d love it, too, if there was a way to make this a more permanent situation. But this is huge and messy and if we want this to…maybe…become a family of sorts….we gotta discuss it as a family, too.”

Dean blows out a deep breath and leans a little into Sam’s touch.

“I guess…..” Dean’s mind is cringing at the idea of _that_ particular wanna-be-a-family meeting. ‘ _God, why did I even bring this whole thing up. Winchester’s don’t have family discussions….just commands and compliance. It’s so much easier that way.’_

Of course, he knows that they’ve long outgrown the military-style hierarchy their father had imposed on them and he is immensely glad for the more equal partnership he has developed with Sam over the years. It hadn’t been easy to let go of the old way ~~s~~ that had always afforded him a seemingly clear and simple way to view their job and the world. They had struggled, clawed and fought their way through the murky grey areas of right and wrong, but in the end, they’d always come out stronger on the flip side and grown closer because of it.

_‘Fuck it, so, maybe this is just another one of these pain-in–the-ass difficult, but necessary things in life to plow through and get to the other side of? Wish I knew….how?’_

Guessing from his silence and troubled expression that he hasn’t won Dean over yet, Sam hooks his hand around Dean’s neck and continues solemnly.

“Listen, maybe we don’t have to go back to our _regular_ way of Hunting.”

At that Dean looks up alertly. “What’d ya mean….’regular way’?”

“Like, on the road all the time. We could try something else. Find a new way. There are plenty of Hunters who have a home base of sorts. And…then…there’s also….” Sam stutters to a halt and bites his lip, wishing he could avoid this subject a while longer.

Dean is struck by the sudden anguish in Sam’s face and he laces his fingers with his brother’s before he takes it off his neck and places it on the table between them, holding on to it. “Sammy? What is it? Spill.”

Sam swallows hard and looks at their entwined hands on the table, unsure what the effect of his next words will be, worrying that he’ll hurt Dean with this. After all, it’s a little crazy.

“I was thinking….someone’s gonna…have to….take over….Bobby’s role.” Sam says haltingly in a hoarse whisper before he looks into his brother’s face again and sees his own sorrow at the painful truth reflected there. They just stare at each other for a while, lost in memories and thoughts of a possible future.

Finally Dean nods and squeezes Sam’s hand.

“Might as well be us, huh?” He smiles a little sadly at Sam.

“Guess so.” The younger Winchester murmurs. “I doubt Rufus wants to do it for much longer.”

At that Dean actually has to laugh, imagining how Rufus’ legendary lack of phone manners would piss off Sheriffs, Medical Examiners, Park Rangers and all manner of other officials looking for identity verification of Hunters posing as FBI or other Law Enforcement or God knows what else during cases all over the country.

“Yeah, and _we_ probably don’t _want_ him to do it much longer either…!”

Dean gets up then and pours them both another cup of coffee, trying to buy himself a little time to organize his thoughts at this new development and uncomfortable fact. He hasn’t really allowed himself to contemplate what life without Bobby will mean for them and he isn’t about to poke the big duffle of grief and loss he has stowed in the back of his mind for inspection at a later date…. _possibly never_.

_But they can’t avoid the elephant in the room either….had to figure it out eventually….so, why not make a start of it now._

“So, how do we do this?” He asks with forced casualness in his tone.

Sam can hear the effort behind Dean’s words, but he jumps at the chance to at least bring up _some_ of his ideas.

“Well, it’s gonna take some organizing and rearranging, but I was thinking we could maybe make Bobby’s kind of an ops base or a safe house. You know, for a wider range of hunters? Plus a central place to gather and share info? I could get a database going, and we should get some duty rotation for the phones, obviously take over some ourselves, but in a way that we don’t have to be there all the time. And then….”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Brain Boy, hold on…” Dean is baffled by the amount of information bubbling out of Sam. “When did you come up with all _that?_ ”

Sam’s face scrunches up sheepishly. “Uuuhmmm, well, I….maybe….I had some time….to toss around some ideas. And also…I kinda….I was hoping…..”

Dean snorts. “Shoulda known….you were _way_ ahead of me again, huh?”

Admiration and exasperation mingle in Dean’s expression as he shakes his head and claps Sam on the shoulder.

“Were you _planning_ to let me in on it at some point? 

Sam gives him another of those rare sunny smiles and Dean can feel the warmth of it flow through his entire body. ‘ _Yup, that’s my boy, Sam the man with the plan…..of course.’_

“I was kinda hoping you get to the point of wanting this…with Lisa and Ben…on your own. Didn’t wanna talk you into something you’d regret later. And see….it worked.”

“Pppft, nice of you to wait for your _slooow_ brother to get off the short bus to catch up, Sammy.”  Dean scoffs, but can’t help to smile back at his brother’s gorgeous happy face.

“Don’t you worry, there’s _plenty_ to discuss and decide….I was just throwing some ideas around and….”

Sam’s cell rings and Dean grabs it off the table and check’s the ID, before he clicks on and says.

“Well, speak of the devil….how are ya, Rufus?”

Sam’s eyes widen at Dean’s offhand tone and he makes a ‘gimme’ gesture with his hand, but Dean twists away from him with a devilish smile.

“Dean! Heard ya woke up from your beauty sleep. About time, I’d say. After all that rest you’d be feelin’ better, I’d guess.”

Dean smirks at Rufus’ trademark gruffness and convoluted way to ask how he is doing.

“Good as new. What can we do for you?” Dean keeps his tone neutral as he still evades Sam’s attempts to claim the phone.

“Well, ‘m just checkin’ when you’re gonna get your lazy asses over here and relieve me from house sittin’ duty? Got my own shit to take care off, ya know? And Bobby didn’t leave this palace and stable full’o junk to me after all. Time for y’all ungrateful bastards to take over, wouldn’t you say?” 

"Aww, just because you ask so nicely….” Dean begins with a slight growl in his voice, but Sam grabs the phone from him and says.

“Rufus, it’s Sam. Hey, man, thank you for filling in so long. Really. We owe you…big.”

“This one’s on the house….well, for Bobby really…not that he deserved the kindness, grumpy old jackass that he was….but still.” Rufus takes a beat, clears his throat loudly and continues in a slightly less harsh tone. “But it’s time, Sam. Time for me to go home, time for you two knuckleheads to come over here and sort things out.” 

“Yeah, I hear ya,” Sam sighs and chances a glance at Dean who is staring back at him with a deep scowl. “We were just talking about that….and…”

“Less talking, more doing, boy. When can you be here?”

Sam stares at Dean questioningly with a little shrug and head shake. Dean holds up two fingers.

“Coupla days?”

“I give ya three. Don't be late.” And Rufus disconnects the phone without a good-bye.

Sam blows out a heavy breath and brushes his unruly hair away from his forehead.

“I guess, we need to make a trip to Bobby’s this weekend?”

Sam sees Dean’s eyes fill with grief and apprehension for a moment, before he clamps down on both and pushes them back.

“Yeah.” He says in a gravelly voice. “Guess it’s time.”

With that he gets up and puts his cup into the sink.

“C’mon, Sammy, let’s blow this joint.”

Sam twists in his seat and looks at Dean with surprise. “Where are we going?”

“If we wanna go hunting anytime soon, I better get movin’. How’bout a run?”

Sam looks at his brother incredulous for a moment. He can’t even recall the last time Dean has willingly gone on a run with him…or at all for that matter. But it also fills him with exuberant hope that Dean’s suddenly taken initiative of this sort and obviously feels good enough to do it.

“Good idea.” Sam declares and gets up to stretch his arms up over his head until his spine cracks loudly and he groans.

Dean grimaces comically his eyes glued to where Sam’s shirt rides up and gives him an enticing look at smooth, bare stomach, and he suddenly questions his choice of activity to build his stamina back up.

He grumbles unintelligibly as he follows Sam to get changed.

\--------------------------------

 A torturous forty minutes later, after Sam has run him all over the neighborhood and through the park and challenged him to a last sprint to the finish line, Dean sinks with a groan onto the dock sticking out over the little pond in a quiet hollow in the woods. He gulps air in ragged heaves; has a stitch in his side like someone is sticking a knife between his ribs and his feet feel like they’re on fire.

He can’t even complain about his misery because he is so out of breath.

_This SUCKS! What the Hell happened to his condition, which had been moderate on his best day. FUCK! And there is Sam, barely breathing hard, looking like a fucking Greek god, skin all glistening in the sun, muscles flexing and stretching, eyes sparkling as he smiles down at him, and Dean doesn’t even have the energy to get excited about it all._

Dean leans back against a pylon and closes his eyes for a moment against a wave of dizziness.

“Dude, you better stretch it out some, or you’re gonna be in a crap load of pain later.” Sam chides with a chuckle while he is doing is own stretches, but at the same time he looks at Dean’s bright red and sweaty face, slightly worried that he has overdone it.

Dean waves his hand weakly and wheezes. “Can’t….stand….you….broke….me.”

“HA, don’t be a whuzz. _You_ wanted to go running.”

“Not…to…fucking….Alaska. Shiiiit….” Dean grimaces as a cramp settles into his calf with a vicious bite and he tries to pull his leg up against the pain until he decides that even that is too much effort.

_Just resting for a sec….will get up in a minute._

First he oughta concentrate on slowing his breathing and getting his racing heart to a more normal pace.

_Won’t do to pass out here. Even gigantor Sam can’t carry his ass back to the house._

He groans again and shifts his legs into a slightly less painful position. Sam is starting to feel really guilty now and sits down next to Dean, laying the back of his hand on Dean’s forehead, which is blazing hot, and then surreptitiously grazing his knuckles along Dean’s neck, where he feels the alarmingly fast pulse beat hard against them.

“Why didn’t you tell me to stop when you had enough, dumbass?” He admonishes but, of course, he knows the answer to that already; can practically read it on his brother’s face.

 _‘Pffft, as if….not gonna….give up.’_ Dean even thinks in gasps but is too worn out to voice it.

Sam scoots back slightly, bracketing Dean’s legs with his own and takes hold of his brother’s calf and foot. As he starts to stretch the leg expertly, Dean grimaces and hisses in a sharp breath but doesn’t otherwise complain, which just makes Sam feel even guiltier. He wishes Dean would rant at him, get mad, kick his ass for his thoughtlessness, his negligence, his ignorance.

_‘What the Hell was I thinking….dragging Dean around for almost an hour. He hasn’t done much of anything since he got back. How is he supposed be fit to run a 15K all of a sudden? FUCK. And I know him better than that…of course, he would never give up ‘til he dropped or the road ran out. First the shooting range and now **this.** ’ _

Sam’s stomach knots uncomfortably as he realizes _again_ that his own selfish need to have his big brother back in his previous tough form is blinding him to the obvious and is causing Dean more pain than good.

Sam is disgusted with himself. He also recognizes that something is still missing for Dean, that some piece hasn’t snapped back into place yet, that there is still something keeping them apart that last little bit. It scares the _shit_ out of him to even contemplate that Dean might have been damaged in more ways than he can ever hope to fully understand much less fix.

 _‘But that’s NO excuse to fucking play the Hear-No-Evil-See-No-Evil monkey boy here. Christ!’_ Sam swallows hard and wishes childishly he could turn the clock back an hour to get a do-over.

“Hey, ’m sorry, man, didn’t mean to go crazy on you.” Sam mumbles, regret thick in his voice as he gently rubs and massages the overworked muscles in Dean’s legs into a more comfortable state, trying to make up for his colossal lapse of judgment.

Still miffed at his own shortcomings and the fact that Sam hadn’t paid better attention, Dean gripes.

“Well, if you wanna _kill_ me, there are easier ways, you know? Less painful ones. Need a list?”

Sam just sighs, glad that Dean finally snaps at him and he doesn’t shoot back a retort.

They fall silent for a time. Sam is concentrating hard on making his brother feel better, using all his skill to prevent Dean’s muscles from cramping up and causing him any additional pain. After a while, though, he has to shift his focus to trying not to revel too much about how the incredible sensation of Dean’s strong leg muscles pliant and relaxing under his touch is making him feel. Dean contentedly lets Sam work off his guilt while trying to ignore that the feel of his brother’s massive paws digging in and surrounding his legs raises the tension in other parts of his anatomy.

Finally, Dean can’t resist any longer and cracks his eyes open to watch Sam work on his thigh with long, strong fingers as the muscles in his arms and shoulders flex with the effort, his hair falling around his face, hiding his expression.

 _‘God, the kid is beautiful.’_ The thought skids unbidden through Dean’s brain.

He reaches out then and runs a hand through Sam’s sweat-damp hair, swiping it away from his face to get a better look.

“Guess, I shoulda taken it a little easier for the beginning. Not your fault, Sammy.” He says gruffly – a peace offering.

His brother looks up at him, remorse and chagrin written all over his features as his hazel eyes catch the sun, making gold and green flecks stand out starkly against the brown. Dean sucks in a sharp breath at the striking sight and his heart gives a couple of hard thuds that have nothing to do with the recent run. He cards his fingers once more through Sam’s shaggy mop of hair, loving the feeling of the soft strands slipping through them, and then hooks his hand behind his brother’s neck to haul him in close.

Their lips meet and Dean immediately forgets his discomfort as he lets himself enjoy the way Sam leans in eagerly and kisses him back. 

_Wow, still crazy, that this feels so good, that Sam lets him._

Dean deepens the kiss and swipes his tongue gently over Sam’s bottom lip, catching the sigh from his brother’s mouth as he opens up to him and takes him in. Dean’s hand glides from Sam’s long, sinewy neck, over the hard, smooth muscles of his shoulder and down to his biceps and then behind his arm, pulling him in even closer. He can feel Sam’s hands slide up his thigh into dangerous territory as he leans in closer to follow Dean’s pull on him.

Dean fights against the urge to haul Sam into his lap and get down to real business, blood rushing with a tingle from his brain to his gut, when Sam’s large hands flex again on his leg and his knuckles brush against Dean’s interested dick.

They break apart a moment later, both breathing hard now, both realizing that they’re about to lose control if they aren’t careful, too eager for each other’s touch and taste.

“Guess, you’re feeling better.” Sam rasps as he straightens up and away from Dean and tries to get his mind back to the present.

“Still got the magic fingers, Sammy.” Dean grins at his brother and looks down pointedly to Sam’s hands high on his leg.

Sam lets go with a start. “Yeah, uh, sorry…..sorry.”

“Oh, I don’t mind the massage….just….maybe not in public?” Dean jokes in a suggestive tone, but looks around quickly to make sure they are in fact still alone.

“Yeah, well, can’t help that you make me a little crazy.” Sam says in a slightly defensive tone.

Dean chuckles. “Good, didn’t lose my touch then.” _Gotta still be good at something after all._

“So, you _are…_ feeling better, I mean?” Sam asks and scrutinizes Dean’s face for signs of discomfort or heat exhaustion.

“Yes, Mom, I’m good!” Dean mocks, but when Sam gives him an eye roll that would have made Lisa proud he continues in a placating tone. “Really, Sam, thanks. I think I’ll get back to the house on my own power now. Just….let’s maybe not go straight for a Half Marathon on our next run, ok?”

“Yeah, I got it.” Sam grumbles, but looks more relaxed now. “You wanna walk back?”

Dean looks up then and really takes in his surroundings realizing with a little jolt of surprise how beautiful this secluded spot is.

He moves to the edge of the pier and dangles his legs over it while leaning back on his hands.

“In a minute….s’ kinda nice here.” He lets his eyes travel around the tall wall of trees surrounding them, skims his gaze over the surface of the clear greenish water and follows the flight of a small bird alighting on one of the thick reeds at the other side of the pond. Fascinated by the light show, he watches how the sun cuts through the foliage in golden streaks and creates dancing patterns on the grass and plants in the little clearing as a light breeze picks up. _So peaceful…._

“I thought you’d like it.” Sam says quietly as if not to disturb the hushed silence around them.

“You’ve been here before?”

“Yeah, a few times. Kinda reminded me….of you, when….” His voice trails off a little unsteadily.

He doesn’t mention that he spent many hours here, when he had to get out of the house, away from Dean’s empty stare and his own pointless research. Or that the spot had become somewhat of a refuge for him when he had to clear his head and gather new strength at times when he couldn’t see a way forward. The memories are rushing up in a threatening wave and making Sam’s stomach clench with uneasiness.

"When….I wasn’t really there?” Dean guesses at Sam’s unfinished sentence seeing his brother’s clouded- over expression. His guilt at leaving Sam to deal with this shit for so long surges up for a hot second, but Dean stamps on it quickly, not willing to let this special place Sam is sharing with him be tainted by it. 

“Something like that….” Sam clears his throat and shoots a quick glance and a crooked smile at Dean, who looks at him steadily with warm understanding.

 _‘Don’t reach out, don’t try to touch me or I’m gonna lose my shit.’_ Sam thinks a little desperately as he fights against the oppressive feeling of the dark memories crowding in on him.

Feeling his brother’s rising panic like it is his own, Dean quickly says in a bright tone.

“Well, I think it’s _awesome_. Maybe we can try fishing here sometime. D’ya think there’s fish in there?” He peers intently into the water below.

Sam takes a relieved breath, hugely glad for the change of subject and the lighter mood Dean is trying to create.

“There’s a sign somewhere around saying something about a stocked pond. So I guess, yeah.”

“Great, let’s plan for it. Maybe we can bring Ben?” Dean’s eyes light up at the idea and Sam’s heart lifts at his brother’s excitement.

“Sure. Sounds good.”

“OK!” Dean claps his hands together. “Let’s get back home, before we stew in our own juices too long out here.”

Like a large cat Sam jumps up in one fluid movement into complete readiness to pounce or run and Dean’s eyebrows raise high in both appreciation and envy of his brother’s fit body. “I’ll ra…”

“If you say ‘Race ya for first shower’ I’ll kick your ass into the lake, dude.” Dean warns with a growl that turns quickly into a snarl as he climbs laboriously to his feet and stretches his body slowly upright. “Fuuuck!”

Sam’s face scrunches up in sympathy and he stretches out a hand to help, but Dean bats it away and grouses. “’M not an invalid. I can handle a little muscle ache.”

“Right, you don’t look a day over eighty, the way you are moving at the moment.” Sam chuckles, but retracts his hand.

“Fuck you, man. I’m older and wiser and that’s why _I_ get first shower.”

And with that he starts to hobble in the direction of the park’s exit with a laughing Sam in tow.

 


	7. REASSURANCE

 

With his head and forearms leaning against the wall and hot water pounding onto his lower back and thighs from the massage shower head, _Dean thinks must be straight from Heaven_ , he slowly relaxes and lets his battered body restore. His mind is a different matter entirely, though, his thoughts running away from him at a gallop.

_‘Man, can’t shoot, can’t even take a little running, I’m gonna be shit on any hunting job we head out on. Can’t put Sammy in danger because I am a useless in a fight. And how’m I gonna protect Lisa and Ben if something happens.’_

It is seriously starting to freak Dean out that his body is betraying him; that it has been so obviously reduced in toughness and strength and hard-earned abilities. He has never been out of the game for this long. Never felt so vulnerable and dependent on others. All his life he’s been in training, first by edict and under the tight supervision of his dad, then out of habit and common sense to keep in shape. Even when injured he has never allowed himself a long resting period; has always pushed himself to get back up and soldier on.

Now, even though Sam and Lisa had done their best not to let him simply waste away, he is easily eight pounds lighter, most of that in lost muscle mass, and he feels weak and defenseless like a newborn pup. He _hates_ it.

He needs to get back into shape, pronto. He can’t let Sammy talk him into taking it easy for much longer. What are they waiting for? Him to recover?

_He feels recovered. Mostly. Well, ok, there are the fucking nightmares. He isn’t sleeping worth a shit most nights. Something still nagging at him, whispering at the back of his mind, that this isn’t permanent, that he can’t have it all, that something’s got to give. That someone is gonna get hurt no matter which way it goes, however he chooses. He can’t watch everyone, can’t be there for everyone.  But maybe, the whole out-of-shape-thing is part of that?_

He wishes fervently he could get over it or figure it out or even talk to someone about it, but he just can’t bring himself to admit to even more weakness than what must be blatantly apparent to all involved.

_He is supposed to be the strong one, the caretaker, the protector. That’s his job. He has to get back to that. Back to normal. But….how?_

“Dean?” Sam’s voice timidly cuts into his thoughts and through the fog created by the steamy shower. “You ok?”

“Yeah, yeah…sorry, Sammy. I’ll be out in a minute.” Dean pushes off the wall and can't stifle a small groan as pain slices down his legs at the sudden motion.

He closes his eyes tightly for a moment, hears door to the shower open and feels tendrils of cool air shift against his overheated skin with the motion of Sam stepping into the space.

“You’ve been in here pretty long.” Sam’s voice is unsure as if he feels nervous about being welcome. “I thought I’d see if I can….help?”

In truth he’d been pacing the bedroom for a good five minutes contemplating the fact that it is really a waste of water for them both to shower separately.

_Well, if he is honest with himself, the kiss by the pond probably had more to do with his urgent need to be close to Dean than his environmental sensibility about the wasted water, but who cares._

It still scares him a little, how strongly his body is reacting to Dean now that they let themselves go here. His whole being seems to be demanding attention and care from his big brother at the moment and he’s thrumming with raw want to be touched and surrounded by Dean.

_But is Dean is up to it? Maybe he’s still mad or needs his space? Last thing he probably wants is his little brother being a needy and selfish._

“Is it….ok….if I…?” Sam starts hesitantly but can't finish the sentence before Dean turns, grabs him behind the neck and around the waist and hauls him in for a scorching kiss.

“Fuck, yeah.” Dean growls against his lips, incredibly grateful for his brother’s unabashed intrusion into his space and anxious thoughts.

_This is just what he needs. Take care of Sammy. Work out his issues in a way that make sense to him._

Their bodies collide and then melt into each other, while their mouths hungrily search and find with a sigh of contentment. Sam loves the way Dean takes charge and presses him back against the shower wall with all his weight. Connected from shoulders to chest to hips and from groin to thighs to toes, they push into each other as if they’re trying to merge into _one_ being.

Dean’s tongue delves deep and dances with Sam’s in a way that the younger Winchester has trouble keeping up with. He simply drinks in all that Dean gives him basking in the single-minded attention he can feel radiating from his brother’s body as he slides his hands up Dean’s lean sides and around his back to pull him in even tighter. He wants to feel every inch of Dean’s skin he can reach and he groans at the feeling of blood surging to his cock as Dean grinds their hips together.

Dean completely immerses himself in the feel of Sam’s skin under his hands ( _soft and smooth_ ); his taste flowing over his tongue ( _mint and salt and hints of coffee_ ); his smell permeating the heavy air ( _sweat and fresh air and sunshine_ ); the friction of their limbs rubbing and sliding against each other as his tension and worries are quickly replaced by the intense high of being allowed to explore his brother’s body in this way. He is determined to have Sam give up all those devastatingly intimate noises Dean has come to know and enjoy as _so very_ _Sam_ during their make out sessions. He mercilessly starts to work down his mental list of Sam’s trigger points, eager to see his brother fall completely apart for him.

Sam is both a little surprised and incredibly turned on by Dean’s almost frantic assault on his senses that has his head spinning in no time flat. He doesn’t quite understand the urgency behind his brother’s forceful behavior but he sure as hell isn’t complaining or even able to muster any protest through the haze of arousal spreading through his brain. _Whatever brought this on….he’ll fucking enjoy the ride as long as it lasts and be thankful for it. Cause this is exactly what he’d been hoping for – Dean in charge._

He hisses out a harsh breath when Dean’s teeth close around his bottom lip and he tugs at it none-too-gently just before letting go and nipping at his chin instead. With a series of sharp little bites, hard sucks, and soft laving of tongue and soothing kisses Dean works over his throat, neck, and shoulders until the Sam’s a panting mess. His skin is on fire but cold chills are simultaneously running along his spine from the alternating jolts of pain and pleasure. Sam lets his head fall back against the wall with a heavy thud and a deep groan, his long, strong fingers digging hard into Dean’s back.

“What’d ya need?” Dean asks hoarsely, pulling back a little so he can scrape his blunt nails down Sam’s broad chest to the quivering muscles in his lower abdomen and back up.

He revels in the way Sam’s eyes are screwed shut as if in pain, but his slack jaw, hitching breaths, and jerking muscles are clearly telling a different story.

Dean pinches one of Sam’s nipples gently between his fingers and starts working it deliberately just the way he is coming to learn Sam likes it best and he is rewarded with a long low moan and the sight of Sam biting hard into his lower lip. Dean’s cock throbs at every noise breaking free from Sam and his heart races at the sight of his incredibly gorgeous brother so obviously enjoying himself. Still he needs more.

“Tell me.” He rumbles low and deep as he tightens his grip on Sam.

Sam’s eyes fly wide with a sound between a choked whimper and a groan at the back of his throat.

“Fuck, Dean….I…” Sam gasps and his eyes flutter when Dean shifts slightly grinding his hip against him in a slow, purposeful rhythm so they can each feel the other’s hard erections sliding against each other in a delicious drag. His hands clamp like iron cuffs around Dean’s biceps to keep from slouching down the wall as his legs start to shake from the onslaught of sensations. “Uunngh, _God,_ Dean.”

His voice is wrecked and his senses are reeling at the intensity of his quickly-building pleasure. There is nothing slow or exploratory about Dean’s actions. Every touch, every kiss, every lick and nip is targeted precisely to extract a specific outcome and reaction. Sam feels like he is being stalked, hunted and his brother is flushing him out for the kill shot. _DAMN……and he loves it! Can’t believe how quickly Dean memorized every fucking one of his trigger points._

“Talk to me, Sam. Tell me what you want?” Dean rasps but his tone is still more coaxing than ordering him.

Although his brother’s signals and body language are easy enough to read as begging him for more, Dean is desperate to hear Sam say it. He recoils a little, almost embarrassed by his craving for reassurance that Sam needs him; that he is the only one to give this to Sam; that Sam wants it.

But his self-doubt evaporates in a flash when he feels Sam shudder violently against him, a drawn-out moan reverberating in the small space. 

“I….I want….” Sam stammers between ragged breaths trying to put into words what his brain has trouble identifying– _All, he wants it ALL –_ and he then cries out hoarsely when Dean’s hot, wet mouth closes firmly over his nipple and sucks hard. “Ah, Christ……yeah, want… _that….want….you….Dean.”_

Sam’s hands slide down his brother’s back and he relishes the way the lean muscles flex and jump under his palms. He closes them almost gently over Dean’s tight, round ass and then pulls him hard against his body, bucking his own hips forward. Dean groans at the feel of Sam’s huge hands almost completely cupping his ass and the vibration of his sound around Sam’s hard nub in his mouth earns him another hard shiver and thrust from Sam, slotting their cocks together with perfect friction.

_Fuck, this is awesome. Could come right now. Just like this. So close._

Their bodies move together in undulating waves, arms wrapping around each other, holding on tight as the water sluices over their heads, shoulders, and backs. 

“Dean….please….need you….to touch me….” Sam’s plea curls molten heat deep in Dean’s belly and turns his cock into a rod of steel, aching for pressure, friction, something more. He complies without hesitation ( _take care of Sammy first)_ , shoving his hand between them and taking firm hold of Sam’s hard shaft. He starts stroking him with slow, long tugs and then switches his attention to Sam’s other nipple, letting the sensations of it all sweep over him.

Sam’s hand closes tight around the back of Dean’s head to hold him in place. He can’t get enough of his brother’s sharp teeth scraping gently over the rigid pebble, his hot soft tongue running slow circles around it and his hard sucking following that. It’s sending a steady prickling current along all of his nerves, building to a storm until another fierce tremor wracks his entire body and his head thuds against the wall behind him again with a deep groan.

Dean can’t help the smile splitting his face at the way Sam seems incapable to hold back his sounds.

“That good, huh?”

_Who’da thought that would be such a turn on for…..well, them both. Thought only girls nipples were this sensitive, but Sam is a total whore for it. And he loved how different it felt from any girl he’d been with._

“Fucking awesome….don’t….please….don’t stop.” Sam pants out and flexes his fingers possessively in Dean’s hair.

Chuckling Dean goes back to work with even more enthusiasm until Sam is squirming and whimpering from the over-stimulation of his sensitive flesh.

When Sam’s hips buck forward again Dean presses them back tight against the wall with his own and grasps his rock-hard cock tighter, loving the feel of Sam hardening and lengthening in his hand and his brother’s huge paws clamping down on his ass; it’s almost painful. Suddenly he feels long fingers sliding and teasing at his crack and he tenses for a moment at the intrusion.

 _‘Huh, that is new….but….not bad…’_ Dean makes himself relax again and strokes Sam a little faster.

“Shit….Dean…please…need….” Sam’s brain and body are screaming for _more, harder, tighter, faster, all of the above_ but he can’t get the words out right, too busy staving off the threatening orgasm drawing his gut tight.

_Don’t want it to end yet. Still need…._

“What, Sammy?” He murmurs against his skin, slowly licking up his sternum, biting at his neck and stealing a quick kiss from Sam’s slick lips just as his thumb glides softly over the slit of Sam’s dick making it jerk hotly in is palm.

“Uhnng….need...I….wanna…..feel your….mouth on me.” Sam croaks as color flushes his cheeks and he closes his eyes for a second turning his head away slightly.

Dean’s heart clenches at Sam’s apparent humiliation and he reaches up with both hands and rakes them through Sam’s hair until he is cupping his face between them.

_‘Oh, no no no, we are not doing this again! No stupid guesswork, no false hesitation, no fake enjoyment, no half-truths. Not with this. We’ve come too far.’_

“Sammy, look at me!” This time Dean’s voice _is_ a command and Sam snaps to attention from sheer ingrained instinct. His eyes fly open, but tension is clear in the tightness around them.

“Thought we’d been through this….man. Don’t…. _ever_ ….be embarrassed asking for what you want, ok? _Not_ with me.” Dean says in a fierce voice while his eyes are pleading with Sam to hear him.

Sam swallows hard and nods tightly.

“I _mean_ it, Sam _._ Tell me and it’ll happen, ok?”

“Yeah, ok.” Sam takes a hitching breath, still a little unsure how much is too much. _What would send Dean running for the hills? Could he really just be totally honest?_  

“’Sides, it’s kinda…. _hot_ ….when you….babble _._ ” Dean rumbles and forces himself to look straight at Sam’s incredulous face and not cringe away with embarrassment himself.

Sam blinks in surprise as his eyebrows rise towards his hairline. _Really? Is that how it is? Well, ok, then, dude, you’re so on!_

 _“_ So, I _babble_ , huh?” Sam asks innocently, but Dean can see the sudden mischief in his slanted hazel eyes. “And _that_ turns you on?”

“M…Maybe?” Dean’s voice is careful, but he can’t fight the anticipation skittering through him like a low current of electricity that has his dick jumping against Sam’s hip as he watches the wolfish expression spread across his little brother’s face.

Sam swallows the last of his apprehension and looks deep into Dean’s lust-darkened moss green eyes as he lets his thumb slowly trace Dean’s kiss-swollen lips.

“In that case, Dean, I want you to _suck_ me ‘til my brains explode. Wanna see and feel your fucking amazing mouth on me. And that’s just the start……” 

Sam’s words are like a sucker punch low to Dean’s gut and he feels his cock leak furiously at the sheer desire and need in his brothers tone. With an almost feral growl, Dean nips at the pad of Sam’s thumb and then sucks it quick and deep into his mouth, keeping his eyes locked with Sam’s all the while. Goosebumps erupt violently all over Sam’s body and he hisses from the pleasure of Dean’s agile tongue swirling around his digit.

“Fuck, yeah, Dean….now….do _that_ on my cock….please.”

His brother’s ruined, urgent voice sends Dean straight to his knees, where he lets go of Sam’s thumb and kisses a scorching trail from his belly button southwards.

“Wait, Dean, hold on a sec….” Sam takes hold of Dean’s shoulders and starts to shift them around a little.

“What’s wrong?” Dean’s impatient voice floats up through the steam. “Change your mind?”

Sam barks a laugh. “You wish….nope, just making sure you’re not drowning down there….in case I need something else from you….later.”

Sam feels his face flush again, but can’t tell if it is from shame over his boldness or the flash of fierce hunger in his brother’s eyes staring up at him.

When Sam is satisfied that the change of position puts him squarely in the way to protect Dean’s face from most of the shower spray he braces his hands on the wall above his brother and looks down with a question in his eyes. (‘You sure?’)  Dean’s eyes narrow in response and a predatory smile spreads over his beautiful features. (‘Fuck yeah!’). Sam feels his brother’s gaze slide down the entire length of his torso like a feather-light caress and he shivers at the imaginary touch. Dean’s hands, in the meantime, glide up his calves over the sensitive skin at the back of his knees and then further up his thighs to his ass before continuing around to his hips and along the deep cut V of his lower abdomen. He is avoiding Sam’s flushed cock, bobbing in front of his face, all the while, instead keeping his gaze locked on his brother’s face unwilling to miss the slightest signal.

Sam’s face is intense with passion, surrounded by a dark curtain of wet hair, a halo of fine water spray glowing in the light behind him.  He looks like an avenging angel looming over Dean like this - protective and powerful and vulnerable and beautiful all at the same time, and it sends a fierce bolt of love and lust straight to Dean’s heart and his groin until he’s trembling from the pure power of it. 

“Dude, stop teasing….you’re killing me here…” Sam groans and licks his lips unconsciously.

And it’s not like Dean needs to be told twice as he takes a firm hold of the base of Sam’s dick and sucks him down as far as he can in one swift move.

“ _JESUS, Fuuuuck, Dean!”_ comes the choked cry above him and Sam’s hips jerk forward on their own volition.

Dean quickly puts his forearm across Sam’s belly and slams him back against the wall, holding him still. Sam lets out a huff of surprise and Dean can feel a surge of salty pre-come burst on his tongue. He moans at the intensity of his brother’s response to his forceful handling and has to grab his own cock hard for a moment to fight off his own threatening climax.

Sam stares down at Dean’s kneeling form and tries to take it all in – the sight of Dean’s lips stretched tight around his dick; the feel of his incredibly hot, wet mouth surrounding and milking him; the way Dean’s tongue presses into the thick vein on the underside of his shaft and then swirls and teases the soft head, thrusts deep into the slit.

_God, he looks so fucking hot down there, worshipping my cock._

With his pleasure building ever higher, tighter, faster, Sam is gasping for air, trying to stay with it. An almost constant flow of mumbled praise and curses is falling from his lips now and one hand slides mindlessly through Dean’s hair, petting him. 

Dean’s whole body prickles and his skin feels too tight as wave after wave of heat flows through him at Sam’s words. He _has_ to look up then, wants to _see_ Sam’s face and he pulls off his cock with an obscene slurp before glancing up and letting his tongue tease and play with the velvety tip of it. At that second, Sam’s brain just fucking short-circuits at the sight of what Dean is doing to him and the sudden harsh jolts of fire lancing through his body. His hand clamps with bruising strength on Dean’s shoulder looking for more contact and support.

“’S ok, Sammy,” Dean murmurs and carefully rubs his stubbled cheek against Sam’s searing, hard length drinking in the desperate sounds that wrenches out of his brother’s chest.  “Come on…..let go.”

_Fuck, he loves the way Sam’s is flying apart at the seams for him; how his whole body shakes with the effort of staying upright and not blowing his load just yet; how is eyes are so dark with hunger that it’s almost scary; how he babbles his approval mixed with some of the filthiest curses he isn't sure Sam is even aware of. And all of it is for him…..him alone._

Dean gently cups Sam’s heavy, tight sac and let's his fingers slide slowly over the soft skin behind them, massaging, playing, probing. At the same time he sheathes Sam’s cock again with his mouth, sucking hard and setting a fast pace now.

“Dean, oh GOD, I’m….please….JESUS FUCK.” Sam’s noises become almost frantic and every one of them makes Dean’s cock jump and leak until his balls draw up so tight he groans long and deep from the sheer ecstasy of it. Dean can’t fight back his own need any longer and grabs himself hard, stripping his dick in time with the rhythm set up by his lips around Sam’s cock.  

Sam can’t take another second of this, it’s too much, too perfect, too…..too…..

His whole world is shrinks down to one thing….Dean….his nimble hands and incredible mouth and gorgeous eyes and warm familiar scent…..just like he’d imagined earlier…completely surrounded by Dean…..and he finally reaches the peak and it’s like jumping off a cliff and free falling – weightless, fearless, bottomless. In mid-air and he feels himself picked up, floating away on a wave of safety and bliss. This is freedom, this is happiness, this is _all_ he wants. And Dean is the cause of it…all.

The force of Sam’s orgasm overwhelms Dean for a second, but he isn’t about to give up now, determined to give his brother everything he’s got, to take him as deep as he can and extend his pleasure in every way he knows how.

Letting go of his own cock and grabbing on to Sam’s waist tightly in an effort to help his brother’s shaking body to keep its feet, he locks eyes with him again, swallowing and sucking down everything Sam is pouring into him. The look of utter love and trust on Sam’s wrecked face, the feel of his incredible cock down his throat and the soundtrack of filthy noises, he is quite sure neither of them have ever made before, have Dean seize up hard and climax completely untouched in an intense rush of heat and light and small shock waves racing through his body.

He lets go of Sam’s dick, trying to pull enough air into his struggling lungs to keep from passing out, and notices how his own come has decorated his brother’s balls. Unable to withstand the temptation he licks at them and the salty-bitter taste of himself together with the velvety texture of Sam’s sac and the pleading tone of his name falling from his brother’s lips wrench another intense surge of pleasure out of him.

As he fights to regain his senses Dean thinks muddily that the world seems to be moving around them and tries to decide if he should be worried about it. He suddenly realizes, though, that it’s Sam who’s moving and that he’s on the way down to him….way faster than he should’ve.

“Fuck!” Dean croaks and just manages to break his brother’s fall with his own body, before any major damage can be done.

\------------------------

“Dude? Sam? Sammy? Are you with me?”  Dean’s voice is muffled like he’s speaking into a pillow. ~~~~

Sam slowly recovers his faculties and feels the cold tiles under his back and hard beneath his ass. ( _Huh, how’d he got down here?)_ He notices dimly that shower isn’t running anymore, that he’s cold and….completely boneless. ( _Fuck, what was that? Did he black out?)._

A little shake of his shoulders pulls his focus back to the present. “Come on, Sammy. Gotta talk to me.”

Dean’s voice is clearer now and Sam can hear the edge of panic in it. He struggles out of his fuzzy state of mind and opens his eyes, blinking hard a couple of times.

“Yeah, yup…’m good.” Sam croaks and tries to get up, but only manages to smack Dean in the face from his lack of coordination before he stills again.

“Dude, be careful, give it a minute.” Dean’s worried face comes into focus in front of him as the older Winchesters takes hold of his arms and steadies him. “Take it easy, ok?”

Sam takes a couple of deep breaths, which helps to slow his still-racing heart and unsteady breath.

Dean cups his chin and tilts his face up into the light for a closer look. “How’r u feelin’? What happened?”

 _‘Scared the fucking Hell outta me, man! Came like a firehose and then slid down the wall like you’d been shot.’_ He won’t say that part out loud, trying hard to calm his nerves and hammering heart, which both jumped into overdrive again at the sight of his brother’s collapse. ~~~~

Sam’s face breaks into a huge, goofy grin and he makes a ‘boom’ gesture with one hand next to his head.

“You’ve done it, dude.”

Dean just looks confused at his mountain of a brother, who’s currently looking like he’s strung out on drugs or shit-faced drunk.

“Huh?”

“Made my _brain_ explode, man! Shiiit, what a fucking incredible ride.” Sam’s eyes are still hazy with the remnants of the epic orgasm he just lived through.  Barely.

The hard knot of fear that had lodged itself in Dean’s gut and heart bursts like a bubble of warm relief before it changes quickly into a bright flash of pride at Sam’s words.

_THAT’s what I’m talking about….! HA! Still good for somethin’!_

Letting out a shaky laugh, still a bit frazzled by the entire situation, he cups Sam’s cheek with his hand and is pleased to see his brother’s eye clearing.

“Glad you enjoyed it, but maybe we should re-think the shower thing….’s kinda hard to explain away a concussion, if you faint on me again.”

Sam just continues to grin like a fool and pats Dean on the side of the neck. “Sure, sure, wherever you like…..just as long as…. _wait!”_ There is sudden urgency to his voice and Dean tenses immediately on alert for danger.

“ _What?”_

"Did you?” Sam starts and stares at Dean keenly.

Trying his best to be patient, even though they are both still wet and it’s getting pretty cold now, Dean returns Sam’s stare, eyebrows raised in question. “Did I…..what, Sammy?”

 " _Enjoy…._ yourself, too?”

“Oh Jesus, Sam, we are _so not_ comparing orgasm stories now….” Dean exclaims in an exasperated tone. ( _Did he….enjoy himself….?? HELL yeah, fucking blew his load like it a rocket…or a cannon! Lucky thing he hadn’t blacked out himself or they quite possibly would have drowned in the shower. HA_.)

“Come on, man, let’s get you up and dry and we can have some lunch, ok?” Dean’s gruff voice stands in contrast to the affectionate way he ruffles Sam’s hair for a quick sec and gives him a tiny wink and a grin before he helps him up. 

Happy in the knowledge that his brother wasn’t left unsatisfied, Sam lets the subject drop and grabs two towels from the rack for them.

“Yeah, good idea. I’m starving.”

“Great, what are ya gonna make?” Dean asks as he towels off his hair.

“What am _I g_ onna make?” Sam repeats in a disbelieving tone.

“Hey, it’s the least you can do in payment for my awesome services.” Dean smirks and looks pointedly at Sam’s groin. “Don’t ya think?”

Sam booms out a laugh, wraps the towel around his hips and walks out of the bathroom in front of Dean.

“I think you might have a hard time fitting into the Impala if your head gets any bigger…..but, yeah, ok, I owe you one _for today_.”

“OK, then pay up, bitch.” Dean smiles brightly at Sam sauntering into the hall butt-naked. 

“Pay up for what?” comes Lisa’s voice from below. “Where are you guys?” 

Sam and Dean freeze on the landing and look at each other in horror.  ‘ _CRAP, what is she doing home so early?’   ‘Don’t know!’  ‘Quick, let’s get dressed.’  ‘We gotta say something.’   ‘Later.’_

Dean gathers his wits about him quicker than Sam and calls down.

“Up here. Just getting outta the shower. We’ll be down in a minute.”

Sam still stands as if petrified in the hall afraid to make too much noise and waiting to see, if they’d given themselves away. But Dean is making frantic shooing gestures at him, so he finally tip toes towards their room.

“Oookaaay, you want me to start lunch?” Lisa’s voice is light, but Dean thinks he can hear a slight disbelief in her tone. _Probably nothing….just paranoia._  

“Don’t you dare!” He shouts, but then grins over the railing at Lisa, sure that the angle and the banister will hide his naked ass. “It’s Sam’s job today. He made me run for an hour. Almost killed me. Now he can cook.”

Lisa laughs at that. “Hey, not arguing here. I don’t mind having someone else take charge in the kitchen. Just hurry it up. I don’t have too long.”

Dean leans an elbow on the railing in front of him casually and asks. “What are you doing home anyway? Thought you normally stay at work over lunch?”

This time he can read the flicker of suspicion clearly in her face, but it is gone as fast as it appeared. (‘ _He is trying to stall, buy time. What’s going on?’) (‘Damn, went too far. Can’t fool a mom, I guess.’)_

“I had two clients cancel on me and thought it’d be nice to have lunch with you guys.”

A fully-dressed Sam comes out of their room at that and bounds down the stairs where he wraps an arm around her shoulders and leads her towards the kitchen with a quick glance back at Dean.

“Great idea, Lis’, what’re you in the mood for?”  Dean hears him say as they disappear. 

Chuckling Dean heads to their room to throw on some clothes.


	8. SUSPICIONS

After finishing Sam’s expertly-prepared lunch of Southwestern grilled chicken wraps and iced tea Dean isn’t sure what surprised him more; that everything tasted so great in spite of Sam insisting it was all healthy, or that Sam made it himself and it was…awesome.  Still, he didn’t want to shock his system with too much healthy food all at once, so he made sure to eat several handfuls of chips in spite of, or maybe, _if he were being honest_ , _because_ of Sam’s disapproving look every time he went back to the bag for more. 

Now all three of them work together to clean the kitchen as they continue the easy banter and casual conversation they carried on ever since Lisa came home.

She laughs as she watches the guys throwing the sponge at each other, while fighting over who has to do the dishes and who should do the drying, and she dares to point out that their antics will only make the cleaning job bigger. Naturally that turns their full attention to her and she suddenly finds herself being chased around the kitchen table by both of them as she defends herself by snapping her dish towel like a whip at first one and then the other Winchester to keep them at bay.

With a blooming sensation of warmth in her chest Lisa feels like she belongs; like this is what her home should be; and she’s glad she showed up for lunch.  The realization would surprise her if everything didn’t feel so natural and _right_ to be around them….ever since they had moved in _._

They finally settle and take care of the matter of dish duty and then join each other at the table for a cup of coffee, before Lisa has to leave.

She has a hard time extricating herself from the comfortable and relaxed atmosphere in her house and contemplates calling in “sick” for the rest of the day, but in the end, her sense of responsibility to her clients wins out over how much she wants to snuggle up with one or both of the warm, openhearted guys sitting in her sunny kitchen. Already missing with their laughter and strong, caring presence, before she even pushes back from the table she says with a huge sigh.

“This was great, but I’d better get back to work. Thanks for cooking, Sam.”

She hugs his head to her body and kisses the top of it, breathing in the clean, sharp scent of him.

“You’re welcome.” Sam smiles up at her openly.

“Hey, I helped.” Dean protests with a mock scowl on his face and he is rewarded by one of Lisa’s warm peals of laughter and the same treatment Sam just received. He slides his arm around her waist and presses her close for a moment, enjoying the feel of her body against him. _SO very different from Sam’s._

“D’ya want me to pick up Ben from school later?” He asks on a whim.

She turns at the door and looks at him searchingly. “That’s up to you. If you like doing it, but you might regret it later, if you get him too used to it….”

Dean doesn’t quite know what to make of that comment, but he doesn’t think he would ever _regret_ helping Ben out. On the other hand he doesn’t want to be some overbearing presence…like Craig’s dad. Ben seems perfectly fine taking care of himself, and he knows from their own childhood that the _occasional_ show of big brother or dad protection has way more impact than the constant hovering.

“Not gonna spoil the kid….’s just for today.” He says in a slightly defensive tone.

“Sure, whatever you want. He’ll get out at four today.”

“Got it, four o’clock. I’ll be there.”

Lisa smiles at him again and her entire face lights up with it, making his heart lurch.

“Ok, well I’ll just brush my teeth real quick and then head out. I’ll be back around six.” She states and vanishes up the stairs.

Lisa’s mind is working overtime trying to decipher the myriad of signals and words exchanged between all of them over the past hour.

_‘I clearly surprised them coming home. There was something going on. Or am I just hyper sensitive? But there’s the way they keep glancing at each other when they think I’m not looking. Like they have a secret I’m not in on. On the other hand, they’ve both been much more physical with me over the past couple’a days – so what does **that** mean? Are we making progress? Should I be more open with what I want? Or would that scare them off? But then Dean obviously wants to spend more time with Ben and he wouldn't push for that if he planned to leave anytime soon, would he?’ _

Deep in thought, she walks into the master bathroom and automatically opens a window when she feels how humid the air still is from the recently run shower. Then she remembers that she’s used the other bathroom this morning, because Ben had been using hers, and she heads over there to retrieve her toothbrush. Stepping into the other bathroom, she suddenly stops in her tracks, eyes flicking between the _dry_ bathtub and undisturbed towels on the rack. 

Suspicion crawls up her spine again and makes the fine hair on her neck stand up. _Why hadn’t they used both bathrooms when they came back sweaty and hot from running?_ She stepped closer to the bathtub just to make sure.  _Maybe Dean had to cool off some first. He’d said it had been hard on him. Probably took second shower in the master._ She sticks her toothbrush into her mouth and starts to brush absentmindedly.  _OR had they showered….together?_ An image so _hot_ it would make the sun jealous skitters through her brain at that and she feels like her skin is tightening all over her body. _Jesus, girl, get a grip….that can’t be it…..(‘Only in your filthy fantasy……they’re **brothers** for fuck’s sake; shit, don’t say ‘fuck’ or you’ll need a few minutes to yourself up here…’)…or can it?_

With considerable effort she wrenches her mind back to the now and decides firmly that she will _not_ let her imagination take off on some crazy flight here without proof or at least more evidence to go by.

_“They must have showered one after the other…probably didn’t want to dirty up the second shower.”_

With that thought planted firmly in the forefront of her mind, partly as a defense against the images of these two men she cares about so much….naked…together, and determined to keep an open mind, she leaves the house without another word to the brothers in the kitchen.

 


	9. COMPROMISE

 

“That was a little close for comfort, don’t you think?” Dean asks trying hard to keep his tone offhand.

Sam huffs a slightly nervous laugh. “Can you say that again….a little less _calmly_? We almost fucking got caught!” 

“You mean ‘got caught fucking’?” Dean laughs while Sam’s mouth hangs open in disbelief that he could even think about joking about this.  “Yeah…..coulda been awkward.” Dean rubs a hand over his neck and doesn’t meet Sam’s eyes directly.

Dean gives a fleeting thought to what might have happened if Lisa had walked in on them.  _That would probably be the end of this.  Of everything.  Of everything that feels so good to him right now. Crap._

The now-familiar ominous feeling that time is running out on their little bubble of happy ignorance envelops Dean for a moment, as it does most mornings when he shakes out of his nightmares. He swallows hard and fights to get his jittery nerves under control.

_‘Maybe it's a good thing that we have an out. Gotta go to Bobby’s take care of some family business and then…..stay gone? Just visit on the Holidays? Keep it casual?’_

Of course, what he wants is the exact opposite. He _wants_ to be here, he _wants_ to be with Sam _and_ get a shot at some slice of apple pie life. The longer they stay here the longer he _wants_ to stay. He can already imagine that Sam’s idea of hunting and family life might be a workable option.

And no one ever accused him of being a coward. He hasn’t run away from anything, not even the bloody Apocalypse, ever in his life. ( _And he can’t really be blamed for how that turned out.)_

Problem is that it all hinges on Lisa’s acceptance of the situation….of them….and he’d much rather fight a werewolf with a plastic knife than have the inevitable family conference on the matter.

“So, what’s the plan? How’re we gonna handle this?” Dean asks a little helplessly hoping that his brother yet again has a solution on hand that he’s worked out and reasoned through…one that will guarantee that this life he suddenly finds himself wanting ore than could have ever imagined isn’t just a fantasy.

Sam can see Dean’s rising agitation in the way he starts to play with his glass and it is mirrored by Sam’s own anxiety in the way his leg jiggles up and down rapidly.

 _‘Freaking out is really not an option here. We gotta come clean and move on, whichever direction that means.’_ Sam thinks, trying to come up with the best approach.

Drawing a deep breath, determined to stop the anxious motion of his knee, he puts his large hands around Dean’s to still them, too. When he has his brother’s undivided attention he states quietly but firmly. 

“We gotta have that talk with Lisa, man. I’m game for whatever you have in mind. No matter what you decide.”

Dean cocks his head slightly and narrows his eyes in warning, just as Sam remembers the discussion from a few days ago and how Dean reacted when he thought Sam was trying to leave himself an easy exit.

“As long as your plans involve _both_ of us, I am good with almost anything.” He hurries to add.

Dean’s face and posture slowly relax and he nods firmly with a big sigh.

“Ok….ok, good. So….we talk to Lisa about staying and see what she says. Then she’ll have a few days to think it over when we head to Bobby’s?”  

Sam sits back and takes the last sip of his iced tea before he answers slowly and with great care.

“Sounds like a good idea. But you realize that also means…..we have to…. _tell_ her…..about _us._ You get that, right?”

A flash of poorly-disguised panic shows in Dean’s bright green eyes, but he nods again.

“Yeah….I do….get that.” His voice is hoarse as he forces out the words.

“She _needs_ to have all the facts before she can really decide anything.”

“I know.”

“Are you ready for that?” Sam pushes.

Dean barks a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, about as ready as being gutted with a spoon. You?”

“Sounds about right.” Sam lets out a long breath ~~e~~ and closes his eyes for a moment, rubbing a hand over his tired face. “I guess, we just….gotta wait for the right moment?”

Dean snorts. “And what is the perfect ‘hey-I’m-fooling-around-with-my-hot-as-fuck-brother-but-we-want-to-live-here-and-make-it-work-with-you-too’ moment? Huh, Sammy?” 

Sam scowls at him. “Why am I the one who's supposed to have all the answers? It’s not like I’ve _planned_ all this.” He gestures around angrily.

They fall silent, both regretting their harsh words already, knowing that it’s just a case of raw nerves at the unfamiliar territory.

“Hey, I’m sorry, Dean.”

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. This is stupid.”

“We just need to get this over with. ‘S probably half as bad as we think it’ll be.”

_Wouldn’t that be nice….is anything ever? Not likely….not for the Winchesters._

But Dean smiles tightly and nods. “You’re probably right.”

Silence descends once more and Sam gets up to refill their glasses from the jug on the counter. Dean watches him noticing the nervous tension in his posture and movements, but he doesn’t say anything, still feeling a little uneasy himself. 

“Guess, we just need to clear up one other thing…between us…..before we…..”  Sam trails off unsure how to bring up this next point delicately. “What about _you_ and Lisa?” he asks carefully keeping his tone neutral as he sits back down and pushes Dean’s glass towards him.

“How do you mean?”

“I mean, have you thought about it some more….Lisa, I mean….made any plans?”

“What’s your point? I thought we had this discussion already.”  Dean’s voice is slightly irritated but also curious as he is trying to figure out where his brother is going with this.

Sam sighs deeply. “Dean, man, I know you’ve been kinda out of it and then preoccupied with me right after, but Lisa still _wants_ you. She _told_ me so and I told _you_ , remember? ‘Sides you can clearly see it, if you’d pay a little attention.”

Dean looks totally confused for a moment, but then his face slowly lights up and he is staring suspiciously at Sam, like he just grew a horn. 

“Are you talking about _sharing_ her?”

Not sure how to interpret his brother’s tone or words, Sam straightens up a little and scoots his chair back a fraction.

“ _Sharing_? She’s _your_ girl, dude. What happened between me and Lisa was….was….loneliness or….opportunity, that’s all.”

“Uh-huh” Dean’s tone drips with sarcasm. “You just accused me of being blind, little brother…..but _you_ are completely missing her looking at you like you’re made out of cherry pie!” 

“Really?” Sam was honestly surprised by Dean’s statement. “You think so?”

“Man, I _know_ so. I may have found a new appreciation for _you,_ Sammy, but that doesn’t mean that I turned gay or forgot how to read women. And Lisa has the _hots_ for you. And I remember pretty clearly telling you that I’m good with it.”

“But you meant the _past._ And I am talking about the future. How are we doing this going forward…..if we want to stay here? If she _lets_ us stay here…..”

Dean feels inexplicably amused by the entire situation; a situation that should have had him running for the hills if he didn’t care so much for everyone involved.  It was nuts; having a discussion with his brother about how to best explain their new incestuous relationship to the woman they both cared so deeply for. Were they actually talking about _sharing_ Lisa?  It would crush him if she rejected them.  But he knew the only way to go was honesty.  He knew this was asking a lot.  More than a lot.  Still, this was so far outside his playbook, not to mention his comfort zone, that he was sure he’d be better-suited to a discussion about establishing and ant colony on Saturn with a NASA engineer.

 _But in the end that is exactly the point, isn’t it?_ They’re used to dealing with a good measure of uncertainty in almost all aspects of their lives. No matter how much they prepare themselves there is always the tangible possibility that they will sustain bodily harm, or even die. That’s the risk of the job. But now, in this situation, they will need to lay out their hearts and desires for Lisa to accept or trample on, making them openly vulnerable and placing them completely at her mercy. _(‘Cause she’ll **know** what we are to each other now; what we’ve been doing’) _ And Winchesters just aren’t good at that sort of thing. _But it seems the time has come to buck up and try. No way through it but forward._

A calm acceptance of the whole scenario settles onto Dean just like it often does before a hunt.

_They’d just give it their all and let the dust settle behind them. Fallout be damned. He could deal. As long as he’d have Sam._

Sam still stares at Dean with huge, uncertain eyes but when no words of wisdom or scorn spill out of the older brother.  He scrubs his hands through this shaggy hair in frustration.

“Jesus, can this _get_ any more complicated?”

At that dramatic outburst Dean finally busts out laughing. “Dude, _complicated_ is our middle name.”

But Sam doesn’t feel like laughing and just looks at his brother exasperated.

“Sorry…..sorry……” Dean gasps and bangs his fist against his chest. “I….just…. _this_ at least is a problem we can handle.”

“I…you think….wait…. _How???”_ Sam stutters for once at a loss for words.

“Well…..” Dean wipes his eyes and says in a calmer tone. “I give you that it’s a whole new level of crazy… even for us….but then all of it is, right? And if we get past the first hurdle and she hasn’t run us outta town with a lynch mob….then _who cares_ if she wants us both?”

 Sam doesn’t believe his ears. He had been fully prepared to share _Dean_ with Lisa, if that meant he would be here and part of the whole. He never wasted a second’s thought on the fact that it may possibly be the other way around. _Could he do that? Share a woman with his brother?_  

Seeing the completely lost look on his brother’s face Dean sobers up further and puts his hands on Sam’s knees, leaning forward in his chair.

“Sam, listen. I have no dibs on Lisa. I thought I made that clear in our last talk. I had _one_ weekend, ok a fucking _incredible_ weekend, with her _ages_ ago. Then we both moved on. And when we reconnected on the Changeling case, I admit a lot of good memories came flooding back and we _almost_ went at it again….but nothing happened.” He squeezed Sam’s knees gently. “I can’t claim her….no, wait, I don’t _want_ to claim her. This has to be totally up to her, like you said. _Her_ decision, _her_ choice. And I’m cool with it.”

“Are you _sure?”_ Sam asks in a serious tone, searching his brother’s face for the slightest signs of misgiving. “This is…..a.… _lot_! We can’t pull back from this, once we put it out there.”

“Yeah….I _really_ am.” Dean lets go of Sam and leans back in his chair grinning broadly at his brother. “Lisa is amazing….and _hot…._ but you _know_ that already. I won’t push her away, if she wants me. But if she wants you instead or wants _both_ of us…..more power to the lady, I’d say. We’d be some lucky bastards.”

Sam still doesn’t look convinced and Dean starts to question if his quick acceptance of the new situation is the actual cause of his brother’s reluctance.

“You _know_ this doesn’t have anything to do with the two of _us,_ right?” He asks softly. “This is not an either/or thing, Sam.”

The younger man relaxes visibly under his brother’s reassuring, sincere tone and looks at him with a slow smile and thoughtful nod.

“Yeah, I know. And you get that it’s not for me either, right?”

Dean searches Sam’s face for a moment and the open trust and confidence shining back at him have his throat closing up for a moment.

“Understood.” He nods solemnly and then gets up and grabs Sam’s head before he plants a kiss on the top of it. “Well, now that this is cleared up……let’s go for our appointment.”

Sam looks up confused.

“What appointment?”

“Shooting range, dude. Moving targets. C’mon.” Dean claps his hands encouragingly and grins at his brother. “Time for me to show you how it’s done.”

Sam’s eyebrows rise and his eyes widen in an expression of incredulity.

“Oh, it _that_ how it is?” He asks mockingly, but feels elated at Dean’s good mood and seemingly vanished apprehension.

“You know it, Sammy. Better be prepared for a lesson.” He proclaims as he leaves the kitchen to get his gear with a smiling Sam on his heels.

Dean is surprised himself at the level of ease and confidence he is feeling. Of course, he hasn’t forgotten his earlier humiliation and anxiety over his weakened body, but he also recognizes that it is nothing he can solve in a day. And after all, his shooting at least had gotten better with every session at the range, so he feels reasonably sure that he is on the right track with it to regain his old form….at least eventually.

\--------------------------

Their session turns out better than either of them had expected. After an hour of concerted effort and good-natured competition, they leave the range laughing and joking with each other in an unusually light-hearted way. They both know that it was far from perfect, but Dean doesn't lose his temper or nerves about it either, mirroring Sam’s realistic assessment that they’d better keep at it before they go back out on a hunt or they’d be in a shitload of trouble.

That dry-humored truth, combined with the fact that Sam had at least not outscored him by an embarrassing margin, has Dean feeling more like himself and less in doubt of a full return of his own awesomeness than any other day since he woke up.

As they pull up to the house Dean remarks.

“Hey, just jump out, alright? I’ll go get the kid from school real quick.”

Sam glances at his watch just clicking over to 15:07h

“Bit early, don’t ya think?” Sam asks suspiciously.

“Gotta check out the lay of the land, Sammy. Make my attack plan for maximum show effect.” Dean winks at him cockily and Sam is again hit with the memory of Dean at sixteen doing the same thing for him.

He laughs. “Alright. You go do that, Attila. I have no doubt of your success in battle.”

“We shall be victorious.” Intones Dean in a booming voice, pumping his fist into the air. “In intimidating the native bullies, slaying our next monster together and finding the right moment to discover our fate with the lady of the house.” 

Sam gets out of the car laughing and shakes his head in grateful wonder at a glimpse of a Dean he had almost lost hope of ever seeing again as his brother peels away with a screech of tires and a whoop of joy.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of activity, homework, dinner and an almost constant flow of Ben’s retelling of Dean’s glorious performance with the Impala that, turns out, has firmly re-installed Ben as the ringleader of his little gang of friends.

By the time they finally get Ben to agree to go to bed, the three adults are exhausted from the day’s events and in no condition to have a serious talk about their future.    

When Sam enters their room after brushing his teeth and washing up, he finds Dean already asleep, breathing deeply, with such a peaceful look on his face, that he can’t help but smile to himself.

“Guess you were _victorious_ enough for one day, huh?” he whispers into the quiet before sliding into his own bed and slipping under quickly himself.

\--------------------------------

 

Three hours later Sam is wrenched out of sleep by harsh gasp from Dean. Sam lies still, listening and waiting to see if Dean will simply roll over and drift off again. It’s become part of the nightly ritual they’re performing, mostly silent, in the dark. More often than not, Dean shouts himself awake, Sam or Lisa’s name on his lips and bright panic on his face. Sometimes he is merely restless and tosses and turns mumbling to himself for about an hour before he slips back under or Sam can calm him. Then there are the nights where the nightmare seems to be forcing him into a quiet state of terror that is the hardest to overcome, in spite of the ominous quiet.

Tonight it seems Dean opened door number three.

Sam can hear a frantic rustling of sheets, the quiet creak of the bed frame and the slap as Dean’s bare feet hit the ground, accompanied by the sound of ragged, fast breathing.

Even though Sam knows that Dean hates him fussing over this, he doesn’t have the heart to let his brother deal with it by himself. The couple of times he tried that tactic, Dean didn’t go back to sleep at all and more or less sleep walked through the next day, reminding them all a little too much of Robo-Dean from before.

Sam’s initial hope, that these night terrors would work themselves out the more engaged Dean became in the normal everyday routine, is fading fast, as they only seem to increase in frequency. Sam knows full well that Dean would rather suffer through this for all eternity than ask for help and that he has almost as hard a time accepting help that is freely offered especially when it comes to matters he categorizes as ‘emo-crap’.

But he also recognizes that this cannot go on much longer as the wear and tear of the nightly interrupted sleep is starting to take a physical toll on both of them, hollowing them out and fraying them around the edges.

‘ _Guess it’s time for an intervention then. Just need to work out the details.’_ Sam resolves to figure out a plan of action later. For now he has another job.

“Hey, Dean? You awake?” he calls softly and waits a moment for a response. When none comes, he slowly sits up and tries to peer at Dean through the darkness. All he can see is his brother’s hunched outline against glow from the window and his heaving sides and shoulders.

“Dean, can you hear me? Are you ok?” Sam tries again and slowly swings his legs out of bed to face his brother without startling him.

“Hm, yeah….yeah, Sammy, ‘m ok. Go back to sleep.” Dean rasps and Sam can hear by his compressed voice how hard he is trying to mask his panic.

“Another nightmare?” Sam persists, but doesn’t move.

(‘ _Sam being slowly gutted right in front of my eyes. Can’t see by whom. Fighting to get to him, something holding me back.’)_

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, it’ll pass.” Dean’s voice is still painfully tight and a hand comes up to wipe at his face and through his hair. “Can’t even remember it anymore.”

_(‘Lisa and Ben tied up and bloody, scared out of their wits, calling for me. Can’t break down the fucking door to get to them. Everything keeps moving out of reach.’)_

“Wanna talk about it?” Sam tries.

( _YES, please. FUCK, I think I need help.)_

“Nothing to talk about, Sammy. Just go back to sleep, ok?” The voice in the dark has an almost desperate edge to it now seeming to plead for Sam to drop the issue, which the younger man has no intention of doing.

( _Dammit, I had a good day. What the FUCK. Why isn’t this stopping? Don’t wanna see….can’t stand…)_

“Can’t go back to sleep if you can’t.”

Sam leans forward, elbows on his knees, and reaches out carefully to put his hands on Dean’s forearms prepared for a rough brush off. But it doesn’t come, telling him exactly how freaked out his brother actually is. He can feel the fine sheen of sweat on his skin and a slight tremor in the muscles under his palm.

“You need anything? Water?”

“No. Just….don’t make a big deal, ok? Don’t wanna wake the whole house. ‘M _fine_.” Dean grumbles, but doesn’t move out from under his touch.

( _Please, Sammy, don’t make me talk about it….wanna forget….JESUS, where is this shit coming from)_

Sam waits patiently, keeping contact with Dean, and watches his breathing slow slightly and his frame relax minutely. After a couple of minutes he gives it one more push.

“You sure you don’t wanna lay it on me? Maybe I can help?”

“Man, come on….” Dean’s voice is annoyed now. “It’s the middle of the night. Not exactly prime time for Dr. Phil.”

Sam knows it’s time to retreat as Dean seems to be set on pretending that nothing is wrong for the moment. So he lets go of his brother and stretches his arms over his head with a yawn.

“Ok, then how about we catch some more Z’s? Or are you up for good?”

Dean looks at Sam’s softly illuminated, deeply concerned face for a long moment, his anxiety slowly fading and leaving a leaden weight behind. All he wants is to curl up with Sam and let his scent and warmth lull him back to sleep.  _(‘But before I say that out loud, I’d rather have my fingernails pulled with a plier….. Don’t need to be cuddled like a little girl.’_ )

Sam sees Dean shake his head and then slide back into bed, turning his back to Sam.

“Great idea, dude. Sorry, I woke you up.”

Sam lets out a cautious long exhale, making sure it doesn't sound like a sigh that would alert Dean to his frustration, before he debates for a moment what to do next.

Dean’s back is still tense, his breathing carefully controlled and Sam can tell that he is in no shape to fall back to sleep now. He wants to comfort Dean, but isn’t sure how to do it without encroaching on his brother’s intense desire for independence. Suddenly, he notices that Dean left a suspicious amount of space on the bed when he settled back down and he makes an impulsive decision.

He gets up and slides into bed behind Dean, pulling the covers up and over himself and scooting close to his brother’s back without a word. He can feel Dean holding his breath for a second and then taking a deep, slightly hitching breath that presses him closer to Sam’s chest.

After a moment of silence Dean rumbles in a low voice. “Better not hog the covers again, Sammy.” Then he reaches blindly behind him and pulls Sam’s arm around his waist tightly. 

Sam smiles into the dark, enormously relieved, and pulls his brother a little closer against him before he mumbles against his shoulder.

“And you better keep the snoring down or I’ll kick your ass.”

It still takes them a while to drift back off after that, but they are quiet, simply enjoying the other’s close presence. When they do nod off, it is into a deep and blissfully dreamless sleep.

\----------------------------

Sam slips out early the next morning to make some calls and set his plan to _fix_ this into motion.

 

 

 


	10. TEMPTATION

 

“Guys? I’m home!” Lisa calls as she enters her house the next afternoon after work, arms full of shopping bags, purse sliding down her shoulder at a crazy angle. “Guys, I could use some help here…..” She hollers again, trying to keep everything balanced to avoid having the egg carton fall to the floor.

She suddenly hears a pained grunt coming from somewhere in the back of the house and then a delighted shout from Ben.

“Ow, dude, right in the stomach!”

“What the _Hell?”_ Lisa exclaims and rushes into the kitchen preparing to break up a couple of rambunctious kids. There is no one there, but another groan and a movement in her peripheral vision make her eyes swivel to the back window. She freezes, staring, mouth slowly dropping open.

Sam and Dean are sparring in the back yard, while Ben sits on the lowest limb of the huge Sycamore tree cheering them on.

In nothing but cut-off sweats, with the afternoon sun glistening off their sweat-slicked naked torsos and limbs, the Winchesters look like a pair of ancient Greek wrestlers oiled up for the Olympics. Muscles ripple and bunch under taught skin, light and shadow play over the planes of their chests and backs, their movements ebb and flow together like battling predators; powerful, dangerous, but breathtakingly beautiful. Lisa can’t take her eyes off the striking sight and heat rushes down her spine and spreads into her limbs and pools in her belly with alarming speed.

After a moment, she catches herself and shakes her head a little to clear it. _DAMN! She’s gonna drool all over the tomatoes and the butter is going to melt, if she doesn’t snap out of this right now._

She makes quick work of stowing the groceries and pouring herself a glass of iced tea all without looking out the window once for fear of melting into a puddle of want right there on the kitchen floor at the spectacle in her back yard.

She scowls angrily and chides herself, muttering to the empty room. “To hell with it….I’m a woman….I have needs…and I’m _tired_ of being ignored. Nothing wrong with a little self-gratification, right?”

She lifts her eyes back to the window and leans against the fridge with a sigh, determined to enjoy the show to the fullest.

After watching the brothers fight for a few moments, Lisa realizes that they are both holding back. But even when restricting their power and speed, the two Winchesters are by no means taking it easy on each other.

Sam lunges just then, trying to take Dean in a headlock, but Dean dodges him and brings his leg up for a vicious kick across Sam’s lower stomach, dropping the younger man down to one knee.

“Ooooh, careful with the _goods_!” Ben crows from his perch and Lisa feels herself flush as the same thought had just flitted through her own mind.

“Yeah, or there’s _hell_ to pay later, Dean!” Sam growls as he is getting up slowly and shoots a heated glance at his brother.

Dean just laughs, open and free, and high-fives Ben in passing. Lisa smiles at the gesture and joy floods through her at the easy familiarity in the way the three “boys” are interacting with each other nowadays. _Like a real family._ It strikes her hard again how much she longs for exactly that in her daily life - a family unit that is more than just her and Ben.

But she is startled from her thoughts by a fast flurry of movement; Sam suddenly grabs Dean around the middle and lets himself fall, pulling his brother with him. A furious scuffle ensues and Lisa can’t tell for a moment who’s going to get the upper hand, but just as she cranes her neck for a better look, Sam ends up straddling Dean’s thighs and holding his arms over his head with one large hand, while laying his other forearm across Dean’s throat.

“Good one, Sam!” Ben whoops and pumps a fist into the air.

_‘Jesus Christ, the two of them together like this are so fucking HOT!’_

Lisa’s mind reels at the suggestive images as she is engrossed in the action. The flex and play of strong muscles in Sam’s shoulders and back have her core clench and need flood her hot and wet at the memory of what those muscles feel like under her hands, what his arms feel like around her, holding her.

She can’t help but wish that she was part of this….whatever this was….caught between their hot, tight bodies, solid arms and firm legs surrounding her, their scent and sweat mingling with hers….her hands tangled in Sam’s hair or cupped around Dean’s incredible ass as their mouths and tongues sliding over her skin.

Lisa groans quietly at the idea and shifts a little to get a better view.

“Give up?” Sam’s pants down at his older brother.

“Never!” Dean exclaims and with a violent jerk, a twist of his hips, and heave of stomach muscles, both of which make Lisa lightheaded and tingly, he unseats Sam, breaking the hold on Dean’s wrists. They roll and punch and kick like two tomcats in an alley fight, before Dean ends up on top of Sam’s back, arms pinned to his sides by Dean’s knees and face pushed into the soft grass by Dean’s hand on his neck.

 _‘Oh, for the love of all that’s Holy, this is torture!’_ Lisa is gripping the edge of the counter by now and feels her breath quicken and her breasts tightening at the sight of Dean’s sculpted chest and straining six-pack being caressed by the dappled light of the sun breaking through the leaves above, while Sam bucks and writhes hard underneath him to regain his freedom.

“HA, eat grass, Sam!” Ben delights in the action below him. “Not gonna get outta this one so easy!”

But just then Dean lets go and claps Sam’s shoulder, before getting up off him and then pulling him to his feet to the loud protests of Ben.

Both brothers are breathing hard, dirt and grass and leaves clinging to their sweaty bodies and hair, but neither is ready to throw in the towel quiet yet.

They stalk each other for a moment, movements lithe and smooth, while looking for an opening in the other’s defenses. Lisa is mesmerized by their perfect rhythm, balance and synchronicity when they attack almost at the same time - throwing punches, ducking, countering, swiveling and lashing out. A perfectly choreographed dance, all restrained power and instinctual grace. She can feel her hands tremble at the display, caught between the desire to be at the center of all that male attention and authority and the need to close her eyes and run for a cold shower to get her hormones back under control.

For several minutes the air is filled with their huffs and grunts and Ben’s continuous commentary on the mock fight below.

Lisa can’t get enough of this fascinating show, but she also wonders again how much of the Boys obvious familiarity is strictly brotherly and a result of lifelong training.

_Or if there is….something…more?_

She had time enough to watch them, even in their daily interactions. The way they move together, anticipate the other’s move, react a split second quicker to the other than strictly normal, finish each other’s thoughts and drift in each other’s wake as if pulled by a magnetic force; it all speaks of such a deep link with and understanding of each other that it is almost supernatural and a little overwhelming to her at times.

 _‘What if….?’_ Lisa isn't quite sure where to go with this. ‘ _No, probably not…. It’s just years of sparring, fighting together and living in each other’s pocket, that’s all. They are brothers after all. But what about the shower the other day? Could it be…? No….they woudn’t….  That just seems so.…what? Inappropriate? Irresponsible? Inconceivable?’_

Lisa takes a deep, slow breath and closes her eyes for a moment to get a better read on her emotions. She knows that has to be completely truthful with herself here, if she wants any part of the complicated conundrum that is The Winchesters. Anything else but brutal honesty in this situation, no matter what form that might take, would simply not be fair to any of them.

 _‘Would it really bother me if there was more between them? I was never one for the normal conventions.  And I **just** imagined myself with both of them at the same time….and not for the first time….. That would be a lot to ask, selfish really, if they don’t also….enjoy each other, right? And doesn’t that already mean that I would be ok with them….together?’_  She rubs her forehead thoughtfully, trying to decide if her lust for the two stunning male specimens in her house is overriding her normally solid common sense.

‘ _No,’_ she decides _’I don’t think it would make a difference to me. Who am I to judge what they do or don’t do? Or what is right or wrong for them. They are already living so far outside of normal with what they do…where else are they going to find any measure of comfort, if not from each other?’_ She feels good with that conclusion, realizing that what she wants _most_ of all is for _both_ of them to be happy, no matter what form that takes, and to hopefully be some part of that happiness.

_‘And dammmit, I better get a piece of the action soon, cause this….is just not fair.”_

Her eyes travel back to the fighters in the back yard and she watches enviously as Sam’s hands slip on Dean’s slick back and slide down to his hips, latching on there for purchase before he twists and throws Dean sideways with a heave of this bulging arms. (‘ _Oh, good LORD! This is too much!’_ ). But Dean just rolls and springs back up with such speed; Sam is no match for him with his larger, slightly more cumbersome frame. With a fierce look of concentration and powerfully coiled muscles Dean barrels into Sam _(‘Jesus, I still remember that hot look of intent on Dean’s face when he made love to me.’_ ), shoulder catching the larger brother in the ribs and driving him backwards until Sam topples over and they both tumble through the grass again.

After another moment of flailing slick limbs, Dean finally pulls Sam’s back against him, wraps his strong legs around his brother’s hips and his corded arms around his neck and shoulders and falls backwards, holding him with all he has left as Sam struggles against the stranglehold on his throat.

“Surrender, little brother?” Dean rasps out close to Sam’s ear, hoping desperately for a yes, because he feels like he’s gone five rounds with Muhammad Ali, but he is too stubborn to call it quits on his own. It’s also becoming increasingly hard _not_ to get hard at all that tight, hot Sam-flesh rubbing all over him and the sensation of his brother’s muscles gathering and jumping under his hands and between his legs. Thankfully, the presence of Ben as audience and cheerleader is keeping Dean’s head on straight and his focus strictly on fighting his moose of a brother as best as he can in his sorry state.

Sam can feel Dean’s muscles tremble and his heart race alarmingly fast against his shoulder blade and he knows that Dean is in no condition to go on, but, of course, he will never relent before he gets seriously hurt – hasn’t learned a thing from their ill faded run the other day. Both pride at his brother’s dogged determination and annoyance at his lack of self-preservation war in Sam’s chest as he goes limp in Dean’s arms and taps out.

“Yep, I’m done! You got me.”

Dean lets him go immediately and they both clamber to their feet a little stiffly.

“Aw, maaaan!” Ben complains from his vantage point. “You shoulda gone _straight_ for his _nuts!”_

All three of the adult freeze in their movements and shout almost in unison.

“Duuuude!”

“Whooooaaa!”

“BEN!”

The last is Lisa, horrified at her son’s new-found love for crude language that she attributes to a bad influence at school.

Sam and Dean whirl around to see Lisa at the open kitchen window, high color in her cheeks, eyes a little wild, sheen of sweat on her forehead and her chest rising and falling rapidly.

Her eyes lock on Dean’s for a moment (‘ _Beautiful clear green-gold in this light’)_ before cutting to Sam’s (‘ _All dark brown and hot.’)_ and an unspoken acknowledgement of her arousal passes between the three of them.

Ben, of course, interprets his mom’s agitated state as anger and ducks his head, jumping down from the tree and slinking through the back door into the house.

“Sorry, mom. Thought you were shopping.” He grumbles.

“And _that_ is an excuse to unleash your gutter mouth at home?” She asks sharply.

“No, sorry, it's not. Won’t happen again. Can I help you with something?”

Lisa has to smile at her son’s attempt to appease her, but claps Ben on the shoulder and says in a serious tone.

“Absolutely, young man. Better late than never. Potato peeling duty for you.”

Sam and Dean join mother and son in the kitchen just as Ben grabs a large bowl of potatoes with a groan.

“Told you, moms have better than normal hearing, buddy.” Sam laughs and grabs a bottle of water out of the fridge.

“Yeah, better believe it,” Dean chimes in. “it’s their super power, together with a sixth sense when you do anything stupid like smoking or drinking or getting a girl….”

“AHEM!!” Lisa cuts in with a stern look. “Could we stop _giving_ him the worst ideas ever?”

Dean smiles so sweetly and sheepishly at her, that she wants to kiss him right there. She quickly turns to her dinner preparation instead and calls over her shoulder.

“You better get that stink off you. Dinner is in an hour.”

“Yes Ma’am.” The brother’s intone in unison and quickly duck out of the kitchen as a piece of broccoli sails in their direction with surprising velocity.

\---------------------------

Hours later, when dinner has ended in good-natured teasing all around the table and a round of Monopoly has made Sam the clear winner and after several beers were shared between the adults in the living room once Ben went to bed, Lisa finally stretches with a small groan and proclaims.

“I think I’m about done for tonight, Guys.”

Ever since watching the sparring session, Lisa has found her mind wandering back to one or both of the men and her own fierce want for them, both physically and also in a “stay-here-and-be-a-family” way. But there had also been doubt creeping in at the edges. _What IF they had developed some kind of new relationship? Was there even room for her? Or were they enough for each other and she had missed her chance?_ She’d been slightly distracted all through dinner and the game, stealing glances at both brothers and trying to decide how to best approach the situation.

Both Sam and Dean noticed her odd behavior and more quiet mood, but didn’t say a word about it, trying to give her time to work through whatever it was she had on her mind. At some point their eyes met, unnoticed by Lisa, in wordless communication as was their custom.

Raised eyebrows from Dean ( _‘Dude, what’s with Lis?’);_ tiniest shake of Sam’s head ( _‘No clue.’);_ small appreciative smile from Dean _(‘Did you see her earlier?’);_ slight widening of eyes from Sam (‘ _Yeah, FREAKIN’ HOT’);_ teasing smirk from Dean (‘ _Glad you noticed…’);_ minute scowl from Sam (‘ _Screw you, at least I went for it.’);_ cocking of an eye brow from Dean (‘ _Oh, it’s so on, dude.’)_

 “Dean, your turn and _don’t_ sell Sam Park Place or we’re finished!” Ben bumps him in the shoulder for attention.

Sitting next to Dean now, Lisa takes him by the hand and gets up from the couch. Her heart is racing in her chest at her own boldness and the thought of the possible consequences, but she’s had enough of waiting for the Winchesters to make the next move. Never one for old-fashioned ideas of etiquette, Lisa has no problem asking for what she wants. Still with the roiling questions about the brothers’ connection in her mind, she is nervous about running headlong into rejection. Even more than the rejection itself, she fears what that would mean for all of them in the near future. But in the end, she needs clarity and some companionship more urgently than an illusion of a happy home life with two brothers who might have nothing more to give her than friendship.

Lisa takes Dean’s hand as she stands up and swallows hard. Dean looks up at her with a calm and open expression, hard to read in its friendly neutrality.

“Dean, I would like…..would you maybe…..” Lisa starts stuttering unnerved by his stunning face and intense green eyes on hers. She gathers herself quickly and tries again. “I’d love to take you to bed with me, if you….want?” 

He squeezes her hand tightly and a small warm smile plays around his lips, but he doesn’t move from the couch. 

 _Oh, SHIT, here is comes….the gentle let-down._  Lisa’s heart is hammering and her body wants to give in to its flight instinct, but she stands her ground and waits for Dean to say something.

The Winchester’s exchange a quick furtive glance and Sam nods tightly once.

Dean tugs on her hand and pats the sofa with the other.

“Lis, I _absolutely_ want to….” He starts with a sigh, but Lisa can hear it coming.

“But?” she supplies helpfully and immediately feels like an idiot.

Dean looks down at her hand for a moment then back up to her flushed face with something she reads as regret in his eyes.

“ _But…._ I think we gotta talk first.” His voice is a little gruff and deep. It sends a shiver all through Lisa.

“Uuhm, I know all about the birds and the bees already.” She laughs nervously. “Even have a kid to prove it.”

_I don’t want to talk about it. You want me or you don’t! Isn’t that a simple question?_

She feels her hands shake slightly as adrenaline pumps through her veins and her entire body stiffens with apprehension as she waits for the axe to fall and sever the tenuous yarn she had been spinning about a possible future with the two of them. 

“C’mon, sit….just for a sec?” he asks gently and pulls on her hand again. “Hear us out?”

She finally sinks onto the sofa with a deflated breath.  “So, what's up?” She doesn’t like how small and sad her voice sounds.

Sam scoots his chair closer, so that the Boys frame her on both sides, slightly angled towards her.

_OH, Jesus, I’ll get the Dear John speech from BOTH of them….fantastic!_

“We just need to tell you a few things….” Sam leans forward in his seat and rests his elbows on his knees, looking up at Lisa with a deadly serious face, which does nothing to calm her jingling nerves. “You know….to make sure everyone’s on the same page…..or at least….informed, so they can make their own …decisions about the situation,” he continues enigmatically, sounding like a lawyer in court.

“Ooookaaaay,” she says slowly, carefully hiding her confusion at that. “I’m all ears. What situation?”

 _‘Well at least it doesn’t sound like an impending brush off.’_ Lisa allows herself to gather some new hope _. ‘Maybe we just need to set some ground rules? After all, I slept with Sam not too long ago. Oh, God, should I bring that up? Has Sam already? Have they gone over the details?’_ And now her heart is racing again and her cheeks flush with embarrassment.

But just as Lisa tries to pry her hand out of Dean’s, she suddenly notices that his hand is sweating slightly and he’s holding on to her way to tightly to be casual.

_Dean’s nervous, too? What the Fuck?_

She narrows her eyes at him slightly and can see pure terror reflected back at her for a split second before he quickly schools his face into a more guarded expression.

“Yeah, uuhmm, so….there is some….stuff that has…changed recently….. _very_ recently, like a few _days_ ago recently….” Dean starts haltingly cursing himself for ever believing that this would do anything but _suck fucking balls_.

“Like _after_ Dean woke up, recently.” Sam cuts in and looks like a puppy expecting to be slapped at any moment as he ducks his head and runs his hand through his hair fretfully.

Lisa suddenly feels an eerie calm descend over her own raw nerves. The two tough, battle-tested men in front of her are behaving like school boys who have taken Dad’s car out for a spin without permission and crashed in into a tree and now need to own up to it.

They clearly aren’t about to tell her that she isn’t wanted or needed, but they are looking for _acceptance_ from her.

_Acceptance for what?_

Lisa’s earlier suspicion about a new-found connection between Sam and Dean is quickly rising to the surface of her awareness again and she examines it once more closely for any apprehension or unease about _it on her part_ , but she still can’t find any.

“Yeah, what Sam said. So, we…..there was this….I thought…..that Sam had kissed me….back when I was, like, 20 and….but turns out it wasn’t….I mean, a kiss….and…”  Dean is staring at his own knee and picking on a loose thread in his jeans as he struggles for words and tries to decide on the best escape route.

“But then Kappi did….uhm…shake that memory loose and….we….I think at first we were….confused….it wasn’t all that clear. But then….when I figured it out, I mean….I thought….maybe I could….maybe that _situation_ was what Dean was waiting for….you know in his mind.” Sam wrings his hands between his knees and he looks at the floor, his mind trying to cling to the hope that they aren’t completely fucking this up.

“So, then…I guess….Sam went with the fairy tale approach…..big girl that he is…and he….kissed me again….NO, wait, I mean, _then_ he kissed me. _”_

“But I got totally freaked out….remember, I almost ran you over in the hall….?” Sam shoots a quick, nervous glance at her.

Lisa nods and tries hard to pay attention to their tale; tries to make heads or tails of it all. She can't help the smile spreading over her face at the adorable and brave way Sam and Dean fumble through this confession in fits and starts.

“And Dean woke up…like…” Sam continues.

“If you say Cinderella or some shit, I’ll kick your ass.” Dean growls quickly at Sam in a moment of brotherly normalcy.

“Sleeping Beauty.” Lisa hears her own voice like it comes from far away, but it must have been loud enough, because both Winchesters freeze and stare at her. “It was Sleeping Beauty, who was awakened by a kiss, not Cinderella.” She smiles at them.

Dean looks at her exasperatedly and groans.

“UGH, not you, too? ‘Sides that’s _so_ not the point at the moment.”

Sam chuckles in spite of himself and feels himself relax slightly.

 “ _Sorry_ , sorry….you were saying: Sam kissed you and you woke up because of that….” Lisa tried to get their story back on track in a matter of fact tone.

Dean’s face softens slightly and she can see a glimmer of incredulous hope in his eyes at her open attitude, before he shuts it down again.

"Uhm, yeah, well, that was…..was….I dunno….the…. _start…_ maybe?” He continues and falters again, looking pleadingly at Sam for help.

The younger brother clears his throat and goes on gathering the last bit of resolve he can muster for the hard part.

“We kinda….experimented….a little f-from there…..took it a little….farther. I mean, we just tried to see, if….”

“If it would gross us out or get us freaked or whatever…” Dean fills in rapidly.

“But, it….it….didn’t happen….it….just…we…” Sam sighs deeply and his face is scrunched up in frustration as he pulls a hand through is hair again.

“We know it _should_ ….feel bad…. K _now_ that it’s…. _wrong…._ Hell, even criminal in some States, right?” Dean gives a humorless bark of laughter that slashes at Lisa’s heart in its bitterness.

“But it just doesn’t feel wrong to us.” Sam looks up then, not at Lisa, but at Dean and his eyes are filled with such love that it takes her breath away for a moment. “At all.”

“No, it doesn’t. It feels good, solid, real….and right.” Dean’s voice is quiet, but full of conviction and wonder now as he looks back at Sam.

Lisa feels the enormous weight of the situation slowly sink deep into her bones and she is painfully aware what incredible amount of trust and confidence it requires from the brothers to lay this out for her inspection and then accept her judgment of them, no matter which way it will go.

She can't imagine a similar circumstance for herself or how she would gather the nerve and fortitude to deal with it.

They must have discussed how to approach it with her and the fact that they had chosen the same path of complete honesty that she had applied to her own suspicions about them, makes her chest constrict and a hard lump rise in her throat. She can't stop the tears of admiration and gratitude from filling her eyes in a rush and then spilling over and down her cheeks.

The brothers wouldn’t have taken this step, wouldn’t have explained themselves and the new facet of their relationship to her, if they weren’t hoping for her to be part of it all….somehow. They could easily have thanked her for her help and decided to move on together.  The realization of that truth and all that it implies for a possible future for all of them gives her such a rush of joy that she feels dizzy with it.

The brothers are still looking at each other and not at her, so she places a palm on each of their forearms to catch their attention before she whispers in a tear-choked voice.

“ _Thank You!”_  

 _What was that?_ Dean isn’t sure he heard correctly. He cuts his eyes to Lisa and is shocked to find her crying. _With anger? Disappointment? Disgust? No._ Searching her warm dark eyes and smiling face intently for a moment, he can’t find anything but open adoration there.

He realizes in that moment, how often he had thought about this situation and her possible reactions over the past few days. He was clear after his talk with Sam on what they would _like_ it to be, but unable to get a good gut feeling on the most likely outcome, he had found peace with the fact that he couldn’t will anything into being and simply had to let the chips fall where they may. He had also refused to think of contingency plans or possible next steps in the event that Lisa ran them out of the house. Dean knew with 100% certainty that Sam would have plans A-Z ready for them if necessary. Never one to plan too far ahead, Dean was happy in the knowledge that no matter what, Sam would be by his side, even if it was to grieve the loss of the potential for a somewhat insane yet normal-for-them family life.

But here they are and Lisa just said _thank you._ Dean can’t quite believe his ears and feels the urgent need to make absolutely sure she had understood their convoluted stammerings.

“Uuuhm, what was that, Lis?” he ventures carefully, not taking his eyes off her face, afraid that he would miss any sign that this was hurting her and it was time to cut their losses and go.

Lisa laughs a little shakily and repeats. “ _Thank you….both!”_

Sam slowly puts his hand over hers on his arm, seemingly worried he’ll startle her into flight, all the while his brain is galloping ahead.

_‘This can’t be it, right? So, if she needs us out of here, we go to Bobby’s first, regroup. Really hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. God, Dean’s gonna be disappointed. I’d be disappointed too, for that matter, but we’ll figure it out. At least we’ll be together.’_

“Lisa, you _did_ get what we were telling your, right?” Sam’s voice is gentle, but Dean can clearly hear the note of nerves in there, too.  

Lisa looks at them both in turn smiling calmly as tears are still spilling down her face. “Yes, Sam, I do understand what you were telling me. Something new grew out of your love and respect for each other. Or maybe it’s always been there, but has now taken a physical form? I guess, it really doesn’t matter, does it? You discovered a new side to your relationship and it would have been wrong to deny it.”

Sam shakes his head looking slightly stunned and Dean can’t help feeling suspicious. _Things never turn out this easy or work out this well for the Winchesters….it’s just not happening._

He clears his throat and tentatively reaches out to touch Lisa’s face, softly wiping the tears from her cheek. When she doesn’t pull away but instead snuggles into his palm with a little sigh, he allows himself to feel a sliver of hope.

“Aren’t you….I dunno….freaking out about it?” He asks, studying her face again and he sees a steely resolve settle there before she straightens up and wipes her face dry on her sleeve.

“Listen, Dean, you too, Sam. I didn’t freak out when I found out monsters and ghosts are real. I didn’t freak out when Sam told me that there are in fact Angels and biblical Horsemen. I didn’t freak out when the story became even stranger with you two being vessels for the most powerful Archangels and having averted the Apocalypse.”

At that Dean shoots a sharp look at Sam, who shrugs imperturbably, but Lisa simply continues in her confident tone.

“I know that you spent your their entire lives together, protected each other and the world from all kind of nightmares and have had no chance at even a smidgen of normalcy in your personal lives. So w _hy_ would I freak out when you two figure out that being able give each other…more…is a good thing? Aside from the fact that I have no right to judge you or your actions.”

Dean has no argument against that. Hearing it from her, in such matter-of-fact way, makes it sound all so…logical.  

“But, Lisa, there’s more to consider here…..we _are_ brothers after all.” Sam adds, his tone hesitant.

“Yes, you are family, that’s true. But in my book it’s more important to find a person you are compatible with in all aspects than being hemmed in by normal convention.”

Sam and Dean exchange another loaded look, unsure if it really could be _that_ simple. Dean picks up the conversation for them.

“It’s not that we don’t appreciate your open mindedness here, really, but we’ll be pretty much alone against the rest of the world with our…..arrangement, don’t you think? There might be more to think about than just….us.”

Lisa looks at him thoughtfully, trying to figure out, if they are intent on talking her or themselves out of this situation.

“So, let me ask _you_ something.” She finally says and switching her gaze from one to the other. “What do _you_ want?”

Sam’s eye twitches at that and Dean leans back into the sofa and lets the calm mask of neutrality slip back onto his face.

“What do you mean?” Dean’s tone is careful.

 _‘Fine’,_ Lisa thinks slightly annoyed, ‘ ** _now_** _you are getting defensive about this? Really?’_

“I _mean_ , you obviously had to put some thought into what would happen, when you told me about you two? And I am really happy you did! And now I would like to know, _why_ you chose to do so?”

Dean steals a look at Sam from the corner of his eye trying to gauge, if his brother has an idea how to handle this increasingly uncomfortable situation.

_Wasn’t it enough that they had just spilled their guts on the floor? Did they also need to beg to stay? This was getting to be a little too much._

“We…just….it’s only….fair that you know….what’s going on, I mean….before you….we….think about….uhm…next steps?” Sam states but it sounds like a question.

Lisa sighs. “I get that, Sam, and again _thank you_ for allowing me to have a full picture. And I’m telling you, I am fine with it. But I would like to know, what you were hoping for would happen next? And I don’t mean just in the next day or two.”

_God, could it be that they really hadn’t thought any further than talking to her about the new development in their relationship? Maybe they had expected it to go badly so no further discussion was necessary? But Dean had said he wanted her so surely, this whole confession wasn’t just coming out of the desire to set her straight?_

Dean finally cleared his throat and said in a quiet but firm tone.

“We weren’t in a position to make any decisions before speaking to you first.” He looks straight at her then, eyes shining with such badly-disguised hope, that it makes her confidence reassert itself and her heart swell. “So any thoughts we might’ve entertained were kinda moot.”  

 _‘I was right, they want this,’_ she realizes with relief _‘They just can’t say it….won’t ask for it….are too proud.’_

Lisa takes a deep breath. _OK, now or never….might as well put it ALL out there and issue an invitation._

“Guys, you need to hear me, ok? I am not just saying all this because I want to sleep with Dean in the worst way.” She smiles a wryly at him. “Or because Sam and I had a pretty damn awesome time together that I wouldn’t mind repeating.” She grins at Sam. “I am _hoping_ that you will consider staying here….long term….with Ben and me. Try to build something…. _together?”_

She takes a careful look at the two brothers, who currently look too stunned for words.

“I know, it’s asking a lot and we’d be pushing all kinds of boundaries here. And I am not naïve about the possible issues we might be facing with the more… _traditional_ people around us….but in the end it’s no one’s business but our own, right? I _want both_ of you here. I really care about you _both_ of you in a way I never expected was possible. I know Ben loves having you _both_ around. We have enough space here to make it work somehow.”

“Really?” is all Sam is able to say while Dean just stares at her wide-eyed.

“Yes, _really!_ I’ve been thinking about it for a couple of weeks now. We just seem to make such a great team; the three of us. It’s been so easy having you here, living together, I never had that with anyone else, much less with two people. It would be such a shame if we didn’t even give it a shot to try and figure something out, don’t you think? I know there are no guarantees and I don’t have all the answers, but I’d love to put our heads together on this and see what’ll happen. Is this something you would consider? Would you be willing to _try_?”

She is pretty sure she knows the answer by the way a bright happy smile is spreading over Sam’s gorgeous face and Dean’s beautiful features slowly change from incredulity to pure joy, but she needs to hear it.

“Hell, yeah,” Dean croaks and clears his throat again. “We’d be willing to try….” He glances at Sam for confirmation and continues. “We actually were kinda hoping you’d want to, too, if you didn’t chase us out of the house with a pitchfork or that wicked butcher knife of yours first.” He grins more confidently now.

Lisa’s heart lifts and flutters with excitement over the pure adventure of it. She’d always loved a challenge and this would certainly be one, but what better way to face it than with the two freaking Winchester’s?

“Lis, you are one damn impressive woman, you know that?” Dean’s voice is full of awe and pride in her.

“I second that.” Sam laughs. “Not entirely sure you are exactly sane for taking us _both_ on.”

Lisa smiles mischievously at that and leans forward to kiss Sam lightly on the mouth.

“Well, let’s not get ahead of ourselves on that point, ok?” She kisses him again, lingering a little longer. “Maybe later down the road….we gonna need some ground rules first….but for now, let’s stick to one at a time.”   

"What? Wait…I didn’t mean…we….” Sam flushes furiously at that and Dean breaks out into laughter as Lisa gets up from the couch and pulls him with her.

“Oh, you didn’t?” Lisa teases. “Hmmm, shame really….but we can get back to that later. I believe for today it’s Dean’s turn.” Her voice turns more seriously then when she adds. “As long as you don’t mind, Sam?”

Sam’s eyes are wide as saucers and his mouth hangs slightly open as shakes his head in answer to her last words, while his brain tries to process the implications of her earlier words. Dean can’t help another bout of laughter at the sight of his little brother, normally so eloquent and so prepared, stunned speechless by the sheer idea of a threesome.

 “Ok, so tonight….it’s us two, bucko!” Lisa continues unperturbed as she smiles up at Dean. “We have to make up for lost time, I think?! I’ve been dying to welcome you back because Jesus fuck, I missed you.” And she starts out the room with him in tow.

Dean turns back and locks eyes with his brother, a little unsure about the sudden change of scenario and Sam’s reaction to it. Dean’s eyebrows rise and he ducks his head a little in question ( _“Sam, you good?”)_ Sam grins at him with open glee and nods enthusiastically. _(“’M good, bro! It’s about time…go!”_ ) Dean’s face splits into an answering grin and he waggles his eyebrows. _(“Can you even fucking believe this?”)._ Sam shuts his eyes for a second and chuckles shaking his head. ( _“Shit, I know, it’s, like, too good to be true.”)._

Dean’s expression loses some of his cockiness and he stares at Sam intently, eyes tightening at the corners. _(“Sure you’re ok?”_ ). Sam’s impressive eye roll and jerk of his chin in direction of the stairs set his mind at ease. _(“Dude, **go** and fucking **enjoy** ….or I will.”) Dean’s eyes shoot wide in mock horror. (“You wouldn’t dare, man. Waited way too long…”) _

They lose eye contact as Dean is dragged out of view.

Sam snort-chuckles again as his brother disappears out of the room and send a thought after him. _‘Love you, Dean.’_


	11. LINK

 

As soon as Dean steps into her bedroom Lisa closes the door softly and remains facing it for a moment.

Now that she has him where she had been longing to have him ever since a couple of years ago, when he suddenly reappeared in her life, she is stumped as to how to start this. Her heart is beating too fast and she feels jittery with nerves at the thought of what comes next.

 _After all, it had been 10 years since they’d slept together._ _What if the amazing sex and connection she remembers is nothing but a figment of her imagination or an overly-positive memory viewed through the kind, rose-colored glasses of the past? Or worse, what if **she** isn’t living up to his expectation and recollection of their last encounter. Where would that leave their newly-made plans to try for a future together. Could she risk that…..did she want to?_

Lisa startles when warm, gentle fingers brush her neck as they push the hair over her shoulder and soft lips press against the sensitive skin behind her ear.

“Lis? You ok?” Dean’s voice is low and a little rough. _With nerves?_

She feels his warmth envelop her as he steps in close behind, and when he lays his hands on her shoulders and rubs his thumbs with mild pressure over her tense neck muscles, goosebumps erupt on her skin in the wake of his caress.

She sighs deeply and leans back against him.

“Yeah, I’m fine…..just….you know….” she laughs a little shakily.

Dean feels torn for a moment. _Is this too quick? They had just laid a motherload of challenging info on her. Maybe she needs a little more time? But **she** had asked him to be here. And, GOD, he wants to….be here…with her….reconnect. Still…._

He slides one arm across her chest and one around her waist and hugs her close to him reveling in the feeling of her strong but supple body against his.

“We don’t have to…..if you changed your mind….I totally get it.” Dean murmurs close to her ear and then kisses her neck, just a brush of his lips over her flushed skin.

“NO, I’m fine….really…” Her answer is quick and sure as she turns in his arms until she can look up at his concerned face. Her arms slip around his waist and she molds herself closer to him drinking in the feel of his hard body against her belly and chest. “I am not changing my mind…..it’s just….been a while…...”

Dean’s face changes from worry to puzzlement.

“Uuuhmmm, I have it on good authority that _you_ haven’t been missing out as long as I have.” He says with a quirk of an eyebrow.

“With _us,_ Dean, I mean it’s been a while for _us_ to….” She sighs and drops her head against his shoulder unable to look him in the eyes for the next words. “I just don’t wanna…..disappoint you.”

“Hey, hey, none of that.” Dean takes her chin between his fingers and lifts it gently locking a fierce gaze on her so intently that she feels hypnotized by his bright green eyes. “ _You_ couldn’t disappoint me if you tried. Are you kiddin’?” He shakes his head in bewilderment. “You have no clue how amazing you are, do you? Everything you did…. _do_ ….for us. The way you just totally casually accepted the shit ton of weirdness we dumped on you and haven’t chased us out of your house with a shotgun.” 

Lisa just shrugs and bites her lip searching for the right words. “That’s different….”

“No, it’s not.” He protests and looks genuinely outraged now. “Everything you’ve done and keep doing requires a crap-load of courage, Lis, and you’ve got that in spades. I can’t imagine you ever stepped down from a challenge, have you?”

She looks at him with deep, dark eyes and he is glad to see a little playful sparkle return to them as she shakes her head “no”.

“Well, there you have it. You said you want me here and I want to be here. The rest….is just….like a jump from the high board.” He smiles at her crookedly and hopes he doesn’t look as nervous as he feels.

_Who would’ve thought that **she** needed the encouragement after she more or less just implied that there would be a threesome in the not too distant future. JESUS, the thought of her **and** Sam with him…. But one step at a time here. For now he really just wants to make this good for her in his own way and not think about measuring up to….well, Sam…..cause…..have you **seen** that boy? Maybe he should’ve let sleeping dragons stay hibernating….not poke the freakin’ gremlins’ nest…..but here they are….he’s gonna have to suck it up and push through. _

Her hands sliding up his chest and around his neck pull his attention back to the present.

“God, I _missed_ you, Dean. I’m so glad you’re back.” Her eyes shine with an open trust and adoration that has his breath hitch and his heart stutter.

“Yeah….me, too.” Dean whispers roughly.

“Sorry for the freak out….just….nerves, I guess.” She smiles and runs her fingers lightly over the back of his neck making the tiny hairs there stand under her touch and a little tremor run through his muscles.

“Forget it. Now, if you don’t mind….” Dean takes Lisa’s face between his hands and leans in close leaving the barest breath of distance between their lips. “Last chance to chicken out….” He teases and his hot breath fans across her mouth softly, sending a shiver down her back.

“Let’s jump…” she murmurs and closes the distance between their mouths. 

The kiss starts so sweetly, so gently her knees go soft in an instant. His incredible full mouth caresses hers with little pressure and great care as his hands glide through her thick tresses and lightly massage her scalp. She is momentarily overwhelmed by the raw show of complete tenderness from Dean that she never experienced or expected from this tough, life-hardened man and she drinks in his affections like a rare wine. Gratitude and deep appreciation are radiating off him in almost palpable waves and she lets them slide over and through her, shivering at the powerful sensation of his feelings caressing her skin and very center of her being. 

_Jesus, this man is going to be the end of me. Always surprising._

Her yearning to make him happy and help him let go of the remaining reserve and tentativeness between them suddenly spikes fiercely in her and her arms slide around his back and up to his shoulders as she presses herself against him closely. Encouraging him to deepen the kiss she teases at the seam of his lips with shy little licks until he opens up to her and their tongues touch tentatively sending a jolt of electricity down both their spines.

Hesitancy pops like a soap bubble between them in that moment and his hand tightens at the back of her skull angling her just right to have better access to her inviting mouth. His tongue is playing and coaxing and exploring her mouth and it sends a thrill through him that it feels like she is just as eager as he is. Staying locked together, they simply let the sensations flow over them and heat gather in all the right places as they reacquaint themselves with the other’s feel and taste and scent and they savor each kiss and caress like it’s a gift.

Dean feels his need for her swell with every minute he has her in his arms, warm and pliant, and he can’t decide for a moment what part of her he wants pay attention to first.

_FUCK, he wants her. Undeniably so. In a very different way than Sam, who pulls at him like a magnetic opposite and guides him home and makes him feel whole. Lisa is awakening some deep need to conquer and defend and cherish – some freakin’ medieval knight shit he didn’t even knew he had in him. It’s strange….and….exciting._

His mouth slides along her jaw and down her throat a ways and he lets his tongue sweep out licking a hot stripe over her pulse point. Her hands tighten on his waist at the contact.

Dean’s brain goes fuzzy at the first burst of her flavor on his tongue.

_Christ, he’d almost forgotten that incredible taste of hers, like nothing else he’d ever tasted. Like his favorite comfort food but tweaked with a few flavors he just can’t identify. Rich and warm and foreign and highly addictive. Where Sam tastes like home and sunshine to him – fresh and sharp and clean; she was like a rare sip of an expensive whiskey – smooth, dark and a little dangerous. And he wants more…._

His hands slide down her arms and under her shirt and a warm wave of pleasure spreads over him at the feel of incredibly soft, subtle skin under his palms. His fingers glide up her sides and until the heel of his hands brush along the side of her breasts and a deep sigh slips out between her lips. “Dean.” The single word instantly tightens his groin and tugs at his heart.

She pulls at his shirt, suddenly frantic with the need to feel his skin against hers and he makes quick work of pulling it over his head and dropping it to the floor. Two heartbeats later, her shirt joins his and they wrap their arms around each other again, mouths seeking and finding the other’s in a scorching kiss.

Dean catalogues hazily how different she feels against him from Sam. Soft breasts pressing into his chest where Sam is all hard planes, velvety skin of her belly and torso sliding along his abs, where he felt Sam’s ripped eight pack of taught muscle not all that long ago. The sensations are so enticingly opposite, he wonders if his brain will explode from total overload if he ever gets to have all of it at once. He feels himself harden against her in a rush at the sheer thought of it.

A sharp nip at his pecs jolts him back to the present and he looks down at her licking and nipping her way across his chest just as her hands glide down behind his back and then slide under the waistband of his sweats before closing tightly over his ass. He stills against her as her nails dig in just enough to hurt and he can feel himself grow rigid.

She chuckles a little breathlessly against his sternum. “Still like to go commando, I see?”

“Hey, I was ready for bed.” He croaks “Never know what could happen….in bed….just wanna be prepared.”

“Uuuhhhmmm” Her lips and tongue make their way to his nipple and she flicks a lick at it eliciting a choked noise from him. “’M not complaining here…..quicker access.”

Pressing her hips forward against him she is pleased to feel that she has his full _attention_. Her hand flexes on his incredibly tight ass and she decides that her memory was poor indeed, that reality is so much _more…so much better…_ than any fantasy she ever had.

He’s thinner than she remembered, than she likes - his ribs and shoulder blades and hip bones easily felt under his gorgeous, pale, slightly battle-scarred skin as her hands and mouth roam over him. But his lean, lithe muscles flexing and playing and bunching under her touch and kisses and the increasing heat and solid press of his hard length against her belly make her forget her concerns quickly.

She thrills at the texture of his sleek skin under her lips and his warm masculine scent and taste filling her senses, both always reminding her of wood smoke and rich earth after rain and well-worn leather mixed with something sharper, more tangy she can’t identify. It’s all Dean and currently all hers and she shudders hard with the pleasure of the long-missed experience of taking her fill of him in any way imaginable. 

She sighs in his arms and rakes her nails lightly up the strong ropes of muscle on either side of his spine as his mouth slides hot and slick from her neck to her shoulder, licking and kissing along her soft skin there.

“God, Lisa, forgot how good you taste.” Dean murmurs against her collarbone. “How incredible you feel.”

He looks intensely at her then just as one of his hands tentatively closes around her breast and his slightly rough thumb caresses the soft peak. A violent tremor races through her at the heavenly feel of his hand on her sensitive flesh and the fire in his eyes that promises so much more.  She takes his face in her hands, curling her fingers behind his jaw and pulls him down for a passionate kiss.

Dean loses himself in the sensation of her hot, strong tongue plundering his mouth and the weight and texture of her breast in the palm of his hand as her nipple tightens and hardens under his attention. Her throat releases a soft moan that vibrates all over his palate.

_Fuck, this is so HOT. Almost forgot how intense she gets. Wonder what Sam thought about it…._

Dean’s need to feel more of her, taste more of her and give more to her rises to a new urgent level, so he sweeps her up off the floor, into his arms, and walks them over to the bed where he gently puts her down, their lips locked in a slow, deep kiss the entire time. She finally lets go of him and gets up on her knees on the edge of the mattress setting her hands on his hips.

She sets her chin on his stomach and looks up at him, her eyes a smoldering, rich, deep brown.

“Just a sec, Dean, not getting any further like this” She pads his cloth covered ass.

“No?” He lifts an eyebrow at her and a small smile quirks the corner of his mouth. “Whadda’ya gonna do about it?”

He swallows hard as a slow, wicked smile spreads over her features and gives her eyes an almost feline glint in the low light. His cock gives a little anticipatory twitch, just before he feels her small hand palm him firmly and give a slow rub up his entire length, squeezing lightly at the tip. He shudders involuntarily and exhales sharply.

_Oh, Crap, another thing he’d forgotten – don’t challenge her if you’re not prepared for the consequences._

He feels his stomach flip-flopping nervously and his groin tightening almost painfully as he remembers all too well the incredible blow jobs she enjoys giving and he knows that he’ll be lost in minutes if he lets her get her mouth on him. Fighting hard against the sheer want for her to do exactly that, he takes a slow deep breath, reminding himself of all the things _he_ enjoyed giving _her_ instead. Just then her soft hands slide down over his ass and back of his legs pushing down his sweats as she goes. _FUCK!_ He steps out of them quickly and slides his hands down her back pressing her against him again, cock nestling between the soft round mounds of her breasts. A hoarse moan and a burst of precome escape him at the insanely sensual feeling of it and his fingers tighten against her shoulder blades.

_JESUS CHRIST! So fucking hot._

“What’s wrong? Not in the mood?” Lisa smiles up at him, one graceful eyebrow raised in question, when she realizes that he won’t let her go. Instead she rolls her upper body against him in a tight wave reveling in the sensation of his steely cock sliding between her breasts aided by another dribble of clear fluid from him.

A guttural groan rips free from his chest as his head falls back, eyes fluttering shut, and he bites hard into his lower lip and Lisa feels an intense tingling and rush of wet heat low in her body at the criminally hot sight.

_God, he is so beautiful…._

He suddenly bends down, grabs her behind her thighs and lifts her up his body until her legs wrap around his waist and she slides her arms around his neck tightly. He kisses her with such desperate need and hunger that they both are panting and lightheaded when they come up for air.

He finally plants a knee on the mattress and goes down with her, catching most of their weight on one arm as she clings to him.

They scramble for a couple of seconds to get into a more comfortable position with her leaning against the headboard on a pile of pillows and him lying over her framed by her well-shaped legs.

He allows himself a moment to really look at her then, letting his eyes and one hand travel from her beautiful face, through her gleaming black hair, down her slender neck, over well-toned shoulders and arms to her incredibly hot breasts, along her tight belly to her slightly curvy hips and down her strong legs while she pushes and arches into every touch of his like she can’t get enough. She is a vision of lithe health and smoldering seduction no man could withstand, and she looks at him with such longing and love in her eyes that it steals his breath for a moment.

“Christ, Lisa, you’re so beautiful….so fucking hot.” He whispers roughly, raw emotion showing for an unguarded second on his face that make her heart clench again and she wishes for nothing more than for him to give up his tight control.

She hooks a hand behind his neck and pulls him closer, kissing and licking at his mouth and he slides up her body all too willingly.

“Need you, Dean….” She lets her tongue slide over the shell of his ear. “Wanna taste you….feel you….” She swirls her tongue into his ear as one slender hand slides between them and wraps unceremoniously around his cock.

“Shit….” He pulls in a sharp breath at the unexpected contact but his hips rock into her touch at their own accord. “Lis….”

“C’mon, Dean…” Little nips around his ear lobe “Let me…please?”  Now sucking it into her mouth suggestively while tugging firmly at his dick and Dean thinks his brain and balls are going to explode at the same time from the sudden jolt of pleasure shooting through him.

_Not gonna last….fuck, she’s just so…..she knows exactly…._

Trying not to sound like a complete idiot and come at first contact like a fifteen-year-old, Dean quickly grabs her hand and slides it from his flushed and straining cock up her body to his mouth as he growls. “Not gonna happen….yet…let you get your way later….if you still want.”

He kisses her fingertips and then sucks her middle finger into his mouth and swirls his tongue around it.

She pouts at him for a sec, annoyed that he won’t let her give him pleasure, her mouth practically watering with want for him. But also she remembers that Dean _always_ took care of _her_ first before taking anything for himself and she can clearly tell what it costs him to stave her off for now judging by his wide pupils and the sleek wet spot spreading against her hip where his cock is pressing against her.

“Oh, I want….you _know_ I want….all of you.” She murmurs and cards one hand through his messy hair, staring intently at his mouth and the work he is doing.

_Holy crap, his mouth….and his eyes._

They bore into her just then; hot and pleading and so intent on her to relent and let him _do his thing_ that it sends another ripple of molten heat straight to her core and she has to shut her eyes for a moment against the intense sensation.

He sees her lips part, hears the low moan slipping out and feels her relax under him and wastes no time to pounce on that sign of permission, his own body tensing in excitement at what’s next. He lets go of her finger and slides his mouth softly over the firm roundness of one breast, licking and kissing along and around it, reveling in the texture and taste of her.

_God, it’s been so long….this is so perfect….different….but amazing._

Her reactions to his teasing send his head spinning. Her hand is clutching at his hair, flexing at the back of his skull trying to guide him to exactly where she needs him most as he can hear her breath speed up and little pleasure sounds fall from her lips. Her thighs flex against his sides tightly and her heat and abundant wetness blossom against his belly as he finally closes his mouth almost reverently over the tip of one breast and sucks at it gently. Memories flood back and he lets his instinct take the wheel giving himself over completely to the task of winding her up ever more tightly. He fucking loves the feel of her tight nipple in his mouth as he flicks his tongue over it and then carefully scrapes his teeth across it pulling a high whine from her throat. Replicating his teasing on her other breast with his hand and fingers, he works her into complete frenzy. She squirms against him, under him, trying to connect to every part of him more closely, her hands restlessly roaming over his shoulders and back, squeezing, nails digging, dragging, making his skin break out in hard goose bumps and little shocks of electricity skitter along his nerves.

“God….Dean….please….” she moans breathlessly when she can barely stand it anymore.

He doesn’t need to ask, knows exactly what she is pleading for and is all too happy to oblige her. His strong hands grip her sides, spanning her ribs, sliding lower as he starts to kiss a trail from her breastbone downwards, laving the satiny skin of her abdomen with hot sweeps of his tongue and nibbling all the way to the crease of her hip.

The soft texture of the sheets is teasing and dragging along his hard, aching length as he slides lower between her legs, sending a fierce shudder through him, leaving him with almost overwhelming urge to simply take her for a second.

_Fuck, he just wants to be inside her. Needs her heat, the grip of her body on him, friction, pressure, something._

He takes a slow deep breath trying to keep the hunger washing through him under control.

_Totally forgot the pull she has on me….the things she unleashes…._

He looks up the length of her exquisite body noting the small mound of her belly, the tight stomach, the perfect round breasts and slick, hard nipples before focusing on her face. Her eyes are wide and lust glazed, lips parted slightly on her fast shallow breaths and her dark hair frames it all stunningly as she looks at him with pure desire.

Dean grips the edge of her panties between his teeth tugging them down and her hands quickly aid him as her hips lift slightly and they get rid of the last shred of fabric between them.

He lays one gentle kiss on her triangle of dark curls, softly asking for entry, never breaking eye contact. What she sees in his gaze must be crystal clear as she wordlessly lets her thighs fall outward and amazes him again with her flexibility. He keeps his deep green eyes locked on her liquid brown ones as he slowly licks up her very center with deliberate pressure. She jolts at the contact, feeling like he touched a live wire to her core and a she pulls in a harsh shuddering breath. He repeats the motion, wriggling his tongue a little deeper into her folds and she cries out softly. Staring at his determined and serious face and incredible mouth, she spreads herself wider for him, trying to will him deeper. Dean simply understands and gives her what she is asking for. Framing her most intimate place with his large hands and opening her even more he puts his full concentration and skill to work. Licking, teasing, suckling and nipping at her with ever increasing pressure and intricacy he has her whining almost constantly in moments.

 _Fuck, he loves this…her sweet taste, her warm and inviting scent, her incredible wetness showing him exactly how much she enjoys it, the involuntary twitches in her thighs, her hands scrabbling uselessly in his hair, over his shoulders, the sheets, clutching her own breasts. She is totally losing control._   

He reaches up and catches one of her hands, twining their fingers against her hip, giving her a hold, steadiness. Then he delves deep and strong, stabbing her in quick, sharp thrusts and rubbing circles over the hard nub of her with his thumb. Lisa thrashes under the assault, hips lifting to meet his every move and she moans long and low, almost a purr before it rises in pitch to a breathy litany of his name.

Suddenly her body arches of the bed, legs trembling, voice choked off on a hoarse suppressed scream and he can feel her inner muscles flutter and undulate as he trusts as deep as possible and milks her climax.

Keeping his fingers stroking her most sensitive spot, Dean quickly rises to his knees and positions himself over her, cock flushed deep red and so hard it hurts. She is still riding high on her orgasm when his slides inside her with one long smooth thrust and then immediately sets a shallow, quick rhythm that has her coming hard and fast again. Her legs lock like a bear trap around his hips and she bites hard into the knuckles of her clenched fist to muffle the shout trying to break free from her straining throat. He takes her hand in his and stretches it over her head before he seals his mouth over hers to drink in the sounds from her lips. Lisa is almost frantic, her mouth pliant and open under his, taking his tongue and her own taste into her with little sucks and licks and a series of hungry noises, that make him shiver again. Being filled so completely by his cock and his tongue leave Lisa mindless with pleasure and ravenous for more.

_Fucking Christ, this is heaven….so hot, so tight….so intense…._

She still twitches and jerks under him, legs and arms clutching at him eagerly, but he slows his pace and eases her through the aftershocks, while trying to stave off his own climax for just a little longer.

_God, there are so many things he wants…. he’s been thinking about…._

Their bodies connected as deeply and completely as possible for two people, skin sliding on skin, his rock hard length sheathed in her velvety scorching core, lips locked and breath mingling - something seems to click inside him then, like a link snapping into place, and he _knows,_ just as he had with Sam, that _this_ is right, that he is _ok,_ that there is a place for _all_ of them in this _._ A fierce joy spreads through him, bright and hopeful and light. He wants it _all_ , wants to make the two most important people in his life happy, keep them whole and safe, be part of everything…..

_Right the fuck now, he simply wants to enjoy this incredible woman in his arms for all she is worth and all she is willing to give him._

Lisa’s eyes flutter open and she stares up at him with a dazed smile.

“Jesus, I….I’d almost forgotten.” She blushes a little.

He goes still for a moment and gently brushes a sweaty strand of her hair off her face. “You ok?”

She snorts and then giggles. “Fuck yeah…that was incredible, Dean. _You_ are incredible.”

 He smiles at her sheepishly. “Uuuhm, thanks? But I wasn’t…..done yet.”

“Well, that’s a given…..but….will you….let _me_ …..” She bites her lip.

“What, Lis?” He kisses her chin. “What’d ya want me to do?”

She tightens her body against him, arms and legs clamping hard and rolls them over so quickly, he has no time to react.

“Huh!”

“Let _me_ call the shots for a while…ok?” She murmurs against his lips and bites gently at the lower one as she sinks down onto him, taking him deeper inside of her. 

Dean groans against her mouth.  “Fuck, yeah.” And he is kissing her deeply. “Whatever you want.”

She sits up then, splays her hands wide on his chest and smiles at him wickedly before she starts to move on him in earnest.

_OH…my…fucking…GOD!_

Her well-shaped thighs are working hard, her hips are rolling sensually, her breasts sway with each motion over him, her hair tumbles wildly around her shoulders and face and a fine sheen of sweat makes her skin glisten in the low light. Dean gazes up at the sight of this gorgeous woman and he questions for a second if he really is… _back_ …. _awake_ …if this is at all _real_ …..

He grips her hips hard and tries to support her, make it easier on her, make the fucking amazing sensations last as long as possible as he feels his cock enveloped and squeezed and milked by her tight inner muscles with delicious friction and pressure.

_Holy shit….there’s nothing hotter._

Lisa can feel his cock sliding ever deeper, touching places inside of her she’d never had touched before and it sends ripples of such exquisite pleasure through her that it quickly drives her close to the edge again. She loves the way he is gazing up at her as if unwilling to miss a second of it all, as if she is a sight that will disappear any second like a mirage, his eyes full of wonder. But there is also a raw lust and hunger there that sends her shuddering and urges her to ride him even harder, to bring that still leashed and restrained part of him out to play.

She slides her hands over his and guides them to her breasts where she clamps them down firmly.

“Don’t….be….shy….” She pants on each move and then seats herself particularly deeply so both of them let out a long moan at the shock it sends thrilling through them.

His senses are reeling with an overload of sensations and the quickly building pressure in his gut and balls at her increasing speed. Kneading her offered breasts and reveling in the texture and feel of them; watching his rock-hard cock slide in and out of her coated in her unbelievable wetness as she almost pulls of and then sinks deep a moment later; hearing her labored breathing and choked off noises as she tries to take him as deep as he will go; feeling her fingers and nails dig hard and desperate into his chest muscles; it all breaks something open inside of him and he can’t hold back any longer.

_She’s….too…far… Need to….be…closer. Gotta give her…._

“C’mere” he growls deep and rumbling in his throat as he sits up in one fluid move and slides his arms around her, grabbing her ass and shoulders tightly as he presses her against himself. Her hands glide around him as well, one clutching his hair, the other gripping his shoulder and she looks down at him for a moment.

 _‘There he is….now we’re talkin’….let go, Dean.’_ She thinks triumphantly as she can see his control slip and his naked need take over.

Their sweat slicked bodies quickly find a new rhythm - Dean thrusting up into her with viscous snaps of his hips, digging his heels into the mattress and leveraging his shoulders against the head board while Lisa meets each stroke with a downwards roll of her hips and gasps loudly at the way he fills her, hard and complete.

“Oh…Dean…yesss….” Her voice is high and tight with need. “Please….Dean….I”

“Fuuuck” he grunts and redoubles his efforts, abs bunching and coiling as he pushes up. His mouth seals mindlessly over one of her breasts, sucking, tasting, feeling, soft flesh under hot, swollen lips.

She whines softly, burying her face against his neck, licking at the salty trickles there, breathing hot and heavy against his pulse.

_Jesus, Fuck, close….so close now._

They’re moving together in perfect harmony now, dance of muscles working together, hands stroking heat-slicked skin, mouths against each other, breathing each other in, one mind to make the other happy, give the other the highest high they can achieve, soar up on the other’s pleasure.

Finally Lisa’s head falls back on a drawn out moan and Dean feels her tightening on his cock like a vice and he’s lost. His orgasm is roaring though him like some long-forgotten beast finally freed to stretch its legs. His thrusts turn wild, hard and fast as she starts to shake and convulse around him, little blissed out sounds bubbling from her lips. His thighs are trembling with the effort to keep up the pace and pull every last bit of ecstasy from this ride. Dean’s heart is hammering in his chest as he feels himself spilling hot and plentiful inside of Lisa, her muscles milking and tugging at him in waves until it’s almost painful and his dick is only twitching feebly trying to spurt one more time, sending a last jolt of pleasure through him.

She collapses against him whispering his name hoarsely and he tempers his rhythm to long sinuous strokes bringing them both down slowly as he runs one hand gently down her back over and over and trying to get his breathing under control.

When at last their movements still, Dean feels like he’d been run over by a steam engine….or hit over the head with a shovel. His mind won’t focus right for long minutes and all he can do is drift and hold on to Lisa and marvel at the fact that he is here….that this just happened….that it was _so_ much…. _more_ …than he remembered from the last time.

Lisa’s mind foggily wanders along similar paths as she reflects how ten years have turned Dean from the cocky, eager, driven lover to this more experienced, more patient, more thoughtful version of himself without losing any of the eagerness to please her above all else. She feels her eyes sting with a sudden welling of tears of pure gratefulness that she is able to experience this again…. _and not for the last time, if she had anything to say about it….._

She rubs her eyes quickly, not willing to let Dean worry or stress over her silly rush of emotions.  

“Lisa?” his voice is hushed and soft against the side of her face. “You alright?”

"Hhhmmm” she mumbles and shifts carefully, so she can look at him without letting him go, not quite ready to break their physical connection yet. Dean’s eyes sparkle vivid green with humor in the light of the bedside lamp as he tightens his hand on her ass cheek a little more for the same reason, enjoying the way her silken warmth is cradling his softening dick.

“ _That_ good, huh?” he chuckles low and warm, the sound vibrating in his chest and echoing against her breasts.

She doesn’t have the right words just then, unsure _how_ to voice her thoughts and if she even should.

Dean studies her face carefully, a sudden twinge of apprehension drilling through his gut despite the warm content feeling in his heart. _What if…_

This hadn’t just been about the physical pleasure of it, but the need to connect mentally as well as test their comfort level with each other. As much as he hadn’t wanted to admit or look too closely at it before, he knew that this had been a test of sorts….for both of them. And they staked a lot on a positive outcome.

_What if….she….is….not…_

A sweet, warm smile spreads over her face just then and she stretches up to kiss his lips softly.

“You know…I _hate_ jumping off the high board….but if _this_ would be the reward for it….I think, I’d be Olympic Champ in no time.”

A happy grin splits his face and his gut unclenches at her obvious compliment and approval. He leans down and kisses her back, lips lingering warmly.

“Ya know….forget about high board…..we’ll make up some totally new Olympic sports. I can name a few you are already champ at.”

He can feel her smile against his lips and her inner muscles tighten around him again.  “Do you, now?”

“Wanna list?” He teases lightly, thrilling at the ease and comfort they are sharing.

“Only if it’s a list of _future_ disciplines.”

He chuckles again, their lips so close that it tickles them both. “Oh, gimme a couple a days and….”

“ _Days_ , hhmm?” Lisa pulls back and mock scowls at him. “You mean you _haven’t_ thought one up already?”

He blinks at her owlishly in confusion; face going slack; before a suspicious smirk spreads over it.

“Have _you_?” He challenges.

“Uuuhmm, I….may….have some….preliminary…ideas.” She blushes bright red this time as she thinks of her recent fantasies involving both Winchesters. Dean’s heart expands with affection for her as he wonders how this almost shy part of her can be housed inside the same woman who just rode him to the edge of his sanity a moment before.

“Care to elaborate?” He kisses the top of her nose, keeping his tone casual. “Or do I have to guess?”

Her hand comes up and starts to trace his chest muscle, fingers gliding slowly over his skin and down to his ribs before coming back up in a continuous circle.

 _‘Oh, crap….I didn’t mean to get here so fast. Should’ve shut up and let this be….just enjoy the moment. And what about Sam? Are we gonna….do we need to have…a talk….together? Sure, would be logical, but after they just stuttered their way through explaining their own new connection …I can’t really see us talking sex schedule or….whatever…. Jesus, that’ll get awkward….fast. Still, if this is supposed to work for all of us….we’re gonna have to address it sometime, right? But I can’t push Dean….not tonight of all times, when we just reconnected.’_ Lisa struggles with how to bring this up in a safe way without spooking Dean.

“I think,” she finally answers in a thoughtful tone. “You should take a little time to come up with your own…ideas….and we can compare notes.” She rests her chin on his chest and kisses it lightly before she looks at him speculatively. “Sam…too.”

Lisa holds her breath a moment and watches him closely for a reaction. He goes completely still under her and his face shows a flash of surprise, followed by something resembling apprehension, before he turns it carefully blank.

“Yeah, sure.” She can see him swallow hard and she suppresses a smile at the tiny sight of his flustered state. “You wanna tell him? OR….should I?”

“Oh, I leave that up to you. You’re grown men. I’m sure you can …make it….work? Come up with some….arrangement?”

“Uhu. Sure we can. Is there….do you….have a….preference?”  

They stare at each other for a moment and suddenly both feel a little awkward and tongue-tied.

Dean’s brain churns at the sudden turn to a more serious topic. ‘ _Fuck, am I supposed to negotiate terms of sharing her here? Now? Can’t even think straight after…. I don’t even know what she expects….what Sam wants….shit, this is so not good. Can’t we just…chill a moment?”_

Lisa sighs, inwardly kicking herself at having pushed this too quickly too far into new territory; Dean is clearly not comfortable with this. She shifts away from him slightly, letting him slip free and can’t help the way her breath hitches a little at the loss of him.

She bites her lip and scrunches her brow at him in regret. “’M sorry, Dean. Let’s just leave this for another day, ok? It’s….I didn’t….mean to….ruin the moment.”

Dean looks at her closely, chagrin and confusion on his own features mirroring hers, and then he cups her cheek with one large hand, tracing her cheekbone with his thumb.

“You didn’t, Lis. I mean it.  I….it’s just….we gotta….”  He huffs out a frustrated breath and tightens his hand slightly on her face. “There’s a lot of….new….stuff. And if we….all of us….if we….want this….” He gestures a little helplessly between them. “If this is gonna work….it’ll…take some adjusting, I guess?”

_God, she loves him for being so brave, for trying so hard, even if he is creeping millimeter by millimeter across a thinly frozen pond with no idea if the ice will hold him or if he’s about to break through and drown._

To his huge relief a brilliant smile spreads over her beautiful face and he can see an inexplicable note of pride in her eyes he doesn’t understand, but nevertheless accepts gratefully, if this means that they don’t need to discuss this in detail tonight, when his brain is still dazed from the amazing sex they just had and his body is quickly becoming more drowsy from the day’s excitement.

She reaches back to him, curls her fingers behind his neck and kisses him slow and tender that he feels the rest of his tension melt away.

“We’ll make it work, Dean. I have no doubt. We’ll figure it out. Just….not…tonight, ok?” She whispers quietly close to his ear.

He nods and sighs deeply before he slides lower on the pillows and pulls her close again until her head rests on his chest and she is snuggled to his side, hugging him tight.  Pressing a kiss to the top of her head he murmurs. 

“Yeah, let’s make a battle plan another day.” He clicks off the bed side lamp. “Thanks, Lis.” He rumbles in the dark after a moment.  

“For what?” She squeezes her hand over his ribs.

Dean debates for a moment, if he should just let it go. Save it for later. But something tugs at him to make a few things clear to her. Get it out and over with. Here, now. When the dark eases the tension and makes it easier to dish out some uncomfortable facts. Just as she asked him to put some thought into what he and Sam want from this, so he wants to give her time to mull things over and really look at this from all angles. If there’s still a chance that this will all fall apart and their lives move in different directions, he’d rather lay ~~s~~ the truth out there now. Have a quick and clean cut, before….it can hurt too much.

“For….being….you.” He says haltingly. “For…still….wanting this. After we told you about….us.”

Lisa is quiet for a long moment before she says.

“I am thankful…for… _you…both!”_ Another pause. “For letting me try to be part of…. _you.”_

She can feel more that hear a small roll of a laugh, like distant thunder, from him.

“Don’t thank me for that….yet. We….Winchester’s….have a pretty spectacular record of….fucking things up…when it comes to family….relationships.” Lisa feels his chest rise and fall with a deep sigh. 

“This…. _you…Ben…_ is so important to us, Lis. Sam and I talked about it and….and….we…we really want to _try_ this…..family thing. But…I have to be fair and totally clear. It’s not gonna be easy, Lisa. You know what our lives look like. That bit will never change….not as long as there are monsters and ghosts and demons and God knows what other shit in the world….we’ll always be somehow involved with it. We won’t be here all the time.”

 _Can’t protect you all the time…._ Dean won’t say out loud. His voice is low and fervent when he continues.

“ _Promise_ me that _you_ take the next days while we’re out to think things over…..carefully. Really get your head wrapped around it, ok? What it means for you….both. Sam and I don’t want to do this half-assed. But it can _only_ work, if we are _all_ ….sure….about it.”  His tone is deadly serious and full of conviction.

Lisa is a little surprised, both at the fact that the brothers have obviously discussed this already in way more detail than she thought, and at the fact that Dean is speaking about it so openly and passionately. She can easily hear his emotions and it touches her deeply to know how important this is to him.

“I agree” she says solemnly. “And I promise that I _will_ think about it again.”

“Again?”

“Dean, I have given the entire situation – _having_ you both here…. _keeping_ you both here – a lot of thought already….before….well, before _tonight._ The fact that the two of you are now also…intimate really doesn't change anything. I had already made my mind up to offer you to stay and try at some type of family arrangement. You and Sam are great with Ben. He really loves having you here. It all just…..fits. I just hadn’t really figured out yet how it would work…with….with the sex….”

Dean keeps quiet, not wanting to interrupt her flow of thoughts, which all seem to go in the _right_ direction. He smiles into the darkness around them and simply listens.

“I….I really…uhm…I enjoyed being with Sam….a lot.” She clears her throat and shifts a little away from him, but he tightens his grip and hums in his chest reassuringly. “I had hoped that we could continue that….after…you came back. But it never influenced my feelings about you, Dean. I knew we would get back to each other….eventually. Took a little longer than I thought….but now I understand why.”

She sighs deeply and her breath fans warmly over his chest.

“What I am trying to say is – I want you _both…._ in my life…and my bed _._ You are both…amazing to be with…very different….but both so incredible, I couldn’t chose if I tried. So….so….if, you know….you are _both_ ok with that…..I’m in.”

‘ _IF we are both ok with it…..fucking Christ….’_

Dean squeezes her tight and kisses her forehead.

“You kinda blow my mind, Lis, you know that?”

She laughs softly.

“I don’t know about that….really, I feel incredibly selfish….wanting it…. _all_.” She is quiet of a moment and then says in a very soft tone. “You know, in a way….you two being….with each other….kinda makes it….easier, maybe?”

“Whadda ya mean?” He can hear her struggle over the words, but isn’t sure where she is heading with this.

“If we’re being totally honest here…..I….I kinda thought about us three….together….a couple of times already….in the past week or so.”

This time Dean can _feel_ her blush, heat suddenly blooming against his skin, where her cheek is lying against him and he grins.

Stroking a hand through her thick hair he says in a soft gravely tone. “Yeah…I….uhm…I might’ve as well.”

He feels her head come of his chest and can imagine her squinting through the dark at him.

“You….have?” Her voice is almost shy.

“Kinda hard not to….I mean…..s’ kinda… _hot…._ on a cosmic scale.” Dean can feel his own cheeks heating in a rush and is happy again about the cover of darkness.

“You can say _that again.”_ Lisa takes a shuddering breath _. “_ God, just watching you to spar together the other day was _torture.”_

“We noticed.“ She can practically hear the grin in his tone and slaps him lightly on the chest.

They are quiet for a long moment and Dean can feel the drowsiness take over again now that he said his peace and thinks they might be in a good place to start…whatever _this_ will become.

Almost at the edge of sleep he hears her whisper.

“We can _do_ this.”

“Hhmm.”

“Together.”

“Yeah.”

“If you let us.”

His brain struggles for a moment over the meaning of that, but loses traction as he slips into sleep.


	12. CONTEMPLATION

Dean jolts awake with a racing heart and a scream stuck in his throat which he fights back down out of pure instinct not to give his position away. 

_Dark hallways of a defunct slaughterhouse, light shining under a heavy sliding metal door, garbled noises, his name choked on a gurgle, he rushes forward._

Images assault his senses, his brain feels sluggish, muddled with the too-slowly receding nightmare, sweat beading his forehead.

_He throws his full frenzied weight against the door, nothing, another glass-shard broken cry of his name behind the barrier, he heaves, muscles straining to their full capacity, rusty creaks, too slow, too late…again._  

Dean can feel himself tremble and shudder as if he is running a high fever. He tries desperately to get his bearings, his sense reaching out in the pitch dark for a familiar presence, a comforting weight.

_The door slides open, finally, he sprints inside, stops abruptly as the gruesome sight buckles his knees and sends him crashing to the floor as if in prayer. Lisa and Sam strung up by the ankles, wrists and throats slit, eyes staring with a last desperate plea, blood running, dripping, pooling thick and fast. Both this time, no choice, no chance, just….loss.  He just knows they died calling out for him._

Dean forces himself out of the torturous recollection, tries to focus on his surroundings. Something seems off….wrong….missing.

_‘Can’t find him…Sam….where’s Sam?’_ His hand slides over the sheets until his knuckles bump softly into warm flesh.  ‘Sammy?’

No, too soft, too small. _Lisa._ Last night’s events starting to become clearer in his mind and he strains his vision to see her sleeping peacefully, curled on her side.

‘ _Shit, can’t wake her…..don’t wanna scare her. Get a grip, Winchester. ‘S just another nightmare.’_ He chides himself and forces himself to lie still as he tries to quiet his rapid breathing and stop his shaking.

But he can't quite suppress the nagging doubt and building panic that make his most basic instincts scream at him to find Sam, make sure he’s ok, not hurt, not dead….because he is here….with Lisa.

Of course, he knows in a far hidden corner of his consciousness that there is no connection between the two scenarios, but he really isn’t in a place to access that rational part of his brain at the moment and he finds his nerves fraying more with every passing second. Instead of calming, his breath is becoming a restricted gasp and a fine sheen of sweat covers his body.

He finally gives up and gets out of bed and creeps to the door as carefully and silently as he can manage in his frazzled state. A last look back at Lisa’s slim form in the bed reassures him that she is fine and hasn’t noticed his escape. Then he is out the door and fights really goddamned hard against simply running and bursting into his shared bedroom with Sam. Instead he grasps the handle of their door with a shaking hand and opens it so quietly that even the lightly sleeping Sam doesn’t stir. Dean doesn’t step in, too worried to make a floorboard creak and rob his brother of another precious night of sleep.

Sam looks totally conked out, sprawled on his stomach diagonally across one of their beds, one foot hanging off the edge, arm under the pillow, face turned towards Dean, tangled hair partially obscuring it. He can see his brother’s mouth standing slightly open and hears the softest snores issuing from him.

As much as every fiber of Dean’s being demands for him to walk over, nudge Sam aside and crawl into bed with him for comfort and reassurance that it really just had been yet another bad dream, his desire to let Sam get a good night’s rest and not have to deal with his big brother’s fucked up head in the wee hours of the morning wins out. He stares at Sam a little while longer, watching his back rise and fall slowly on deep breaths and his hair being blown out of his eyes with every exhale. Then he retreats and leaves the door resting on the frame to avoid even the chance of making a noise while closing it.

He makes his way downstairs ever so carefully on still weak and wobbly legs and steals into the kitchen, where is pours himself a large bourbon. He takes an immediate slug, letting the familiar slow burn of the liquor draw him further into the present and calm him a little more. Dean stands there for a moment as if in a daze, contemplating where to go, what to do, and he finally decides that a little fresh air might be in order. Noticing for the first time since waking that he is completely naked, he makes a detour for the laundry room, snatching a pair of sweats and one of Sam’s hoodies from the pile waiting to be folded and puts them on. The overly-large sweatshirt slides over his body like a comforting hug from his brother and he sighs again, closing his eyes for a moment. 

Stepping out the back door, bourbon in hand, Dean lets the cool night air flow over him and sooth his still-overheated and uncomfortable skin. He sinks onto the back steps, staring out into the shadowy yard that is only partially lit by a rapidly sinking moon. A light wind makes the silvery light slide over the bushes and plants like they are dipped in quicksilver and Dean watches for a moment, fascinated by the beautiful play of bright spots and dancing shadows.

Unfortunately, at that very moment, his brain chooses to conjure up other images in shades of crimson and grey and rust and flesh and he shudders hard. The rustle of the wind through the trees suddenly seems to be a whisper of his name from Sam’s lips, the screeching of an owl in the night becomes a strangled scream for help from Lisa’s throat.

“Goddammit. Fucking snap out of it!” He snarls into the dark, pissed at himself for his weakness. “They’re fine, you checked, now get the fuck over it.” He takes another slug from the glass in his trembling hands.

_Why can't he let go of this? What the fuck is…. **this** ….even? What is his freaking hind brain trying to tell him? When he’s awake life’s pretty hunky-dory at the moment….more so than in a long time….maybe ever. So why the nightly horror show? Why can’t he shut this down, move on? _

He takes another slug, leans his head back against the banister and bounces it there once to give himself a smack on the head.

_He believes Sam that he isn’t going anywhere….right? He thinks so. It feels like the truth. Or is he just fooling himself? He wants to be here, with Lisa and Ben, he is absolutely sure of that. As long as Sam is part of it. And Lisa sounded sure earlier when they talked about it. But then maybe she just needed to think things through more deeply? FUCK. Is he just convincing himself to live some fucking fairy tale here?_

_He is perfectly clear that there’ll be tough and difficult at times…but he really does trust that they can figure this out….together, just like Lisa said. Right?_

Dean takes a deep shuddering breath, trying dislodge the tight feeling in his chest and chase these doubts away before they can grab a hold of him again.

_It all sounds so reasonable and possible, when they talk about it by daylight. Everyone seems so onboard and willing to try. But then when did anything ever go according to plan with the Winchesters? When wasn’t there some curveball or roadblock throwing them off into a completely different direction? So, is that reason enough to not even try? NO….they don’t back down from a challenge….ever…and he isn’t gonna start that shit now. Not after actually owning up to what he wants…from life….for himself…for once._

He rubs at his eyes and lets them travel to the large sinking moon.

_Is…that…it? Is he forcing **his** version of happy on the others? Thinking back, **he** had brought it up to Sam first, right? Sure Sam told him that he wasn’t the only one wishing for this…..but was he humoring Dean? Was that Sam’s idea of making Dean happy? Same with Lisa… **they** had laid it all out to her….she hadn’t brought up the idea for a happy trinity. And again, she had told him afterwards that she’d thought about it on her own….but….HOLY SHIT. Was he actually driving them all off some emotional cliff here? _

Dean pinches the bridge of his nose, a headache starting to form between his tired eyes.

_No, that was bullshit. It didn't feel right. There’s no way he is just imagining the other two’s eagerness to plunge into this crazy ass relationship. No matter how much **he** wants this, the other two wouldn’t just jump down the hole with him if they had serious reservations….Sam and Lisa both are way too cautious for that. _

Dean is relieved that at least _that_ much seems true and plausible to him at this moment, because not much else makes any sense to him.

_So, why the constant dreams about losing it all? Nothing is threatening them at the moment. Sam said all is quiet on the big stage. Plus they’ve been pretty much off the grid the last few weeks. And even IF something’s coming, he’s protected Lisa and Ben before….why would now be any different? He knows he’s getting back into the swing of things….feels better about his shooting and fighting skills – more ready to protect everyone in his care again fully. And ‘sides, Lisa did just fine without him all those years he wasn’t around. Right?_

Dean throws back the last of the whiskey, but instead of the usual calming effect it normally has on him, he feels it burn sour in his stomach.

_Is it because they are leaving for Bobby’s, probably will be gone for a good week? That made no sense either….the nightmares had started before they made that decision._

_So, what is he missing here?_

He blows out a frustrated breath and stands up stiffly, rolling his tense shoulders to work out some of the kinks. His entire body feels leaden all of a sudden and he wishes fervently he could simply lie back down and forget about this for a couple of hours. But he can't bring himself to disturb either of his partners and knows that crashing on the couch won’t get him any actual sleep.

_But hanging out here for the rest of the night won’t do any good either._

He’s standing on the back stoop for a long moment, eyes staring sightlessly into the shadowy back yard, body swaying slightly from exhaustion. Without conscious thought his feet start moving and carry him a little jerkily to the carport on the side of the house, where Baby’s dully gleaming form sits patiently waiting. Dean walks along her back, fingertips trailing absent-mindedly over her polished flank, before he opens the driver’s side door as quietly as possible and slides in. 

The familiar scent and feel of her all around him bring Dean back to himself and he lets his hands rest heavy on the top of the wheel and leans his head on them with a deep sigh.

_For Fuck’s sake, this has to stop. He needs it to stop._

But try as he might Dean can’t see how. Without understanding the reasons for the nightly terror, the violent images, the creeping fear of always being too late, he has no compass or road map to help him find a way out of it. He is at a loss for who to ask for help, still apprehensive about involving Sam in this, worrying him further and forcing him to carry Dean’s weight any longer.

Finally giving up on finding any good answers tonight, Dean swings his legs up onto the front bench seat and settles back against the Impala’s door. Out of sheer reflex he glances into the back seat, instantly missing Sam’s equally familiar presence there. Dean smiles at the sudden nostalgic memory of their many nights in the car together, sleeping in their home under the stars. ( _Sam bitching about the cramped quarters; himself trying not to complain out of pure defiance; chilled to the bone or sweat damp and uncomfortable; but always….safe…..always together._ )  With his arms crossed over his chest and his head pillowed on the back rest the way he has slept hundreds of hours in his life on the road, he lets his eyes fall shut and tries to empty his mind.

\-------------------------------

When the first rays of sunshine break over the horizon and fall on Dean’s face the next morning, he grumbles under his breath and rubs at his eyes as if to wipe away the offensive light.

Cracking open one bleary eye at the lack of success, he stretches with a deep groan, immediately bumping his shoulder into the steering wheel and getting a cramp in his lower back.

It takes him a minute to orient himself and figure out why the hell he is sleeping in the car when there are perfectly comfortable beds and even more perfectly warm bodies to share those with in the house.

Slowly, last night’s events become clear in his mind and he shakes his head with a scoff at himself.

‘ _Way to go man….topping of fucking amazing sex with Lisa with another cherry of a horror show and then hiding in the car. Shit!’_

As on almost every morning in the last couple of weeks, though, the bright sunshine and prospect of another day to be spent with Sam, Lisa and Ben make most of his nightmares pale and dissipate into mist quickly no matter how intense and gruesome they had been the night before.

_‘Or maybe it’s **because** of the bright sunshine and prospect of another day spent with Sam, Lisa and Ben that it’s easier to **ignore** the nightmares.’ _ Dean has to admit to himself grudgingly.

_‘No matter. Today’s different, we got a plan, back on the road together, like old times.’_

Dean scrambles groggily out of the Impala’s interior trying to be quiet and not wake the entire house with the noise from her creaky hinges.

His body aches all over and he feels like he’s had about two hours of sleep, but _Hell_ he functions on less pretty regularly, and the outlook of reviving himself with a long, hot shower preparing breakfast for everyone in the house cheers him up considerably as he starts towards the back door.    

Having executed both objectives an hour later, Dean lets his gaze sweep across the laden breakfast table  with great satisfaction, just as Sam stumbles through the door of the kitchen with a wrinkled brow and squinting eyes.

“Mornin’ sleepy head.” Dean greets him with a grin that only deepens Sam’s scowl.

“Mornin’” He draws out the word and accepts the cup of coffee Dean has just finished doctoring for him. “What’s all this? Thought you wanted to hit the road early and light?”

“Awww, Sammy, don’t be an ass. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day. We can’t hit the road without some decent chow. _You_ always say that. ‘Sides – sun’s just barely up. We’ve got plenty time.”

Dean grabs Sam by the shoulders and pushes him towards the table and then into one of the chairs.

“Uhm, ooookay.  Thanks, I guess?” Sam gives his brother a tentative smile, slightly taken aback by his unusually good mood. He scolds himself for his doubts a moment later, trying to simply enjoy Dean’s positive energy. ‘ _God knows, I need him in good spirits later.’_

“You’re welcome, dude.”

After a moment’s silence, during which Sam loads his plate with eggs and bacon and Dean slathers a thick layer of Nutella on his toast, the younger brother finally hedges carefully.

“Soooo, guess….last night was….so much fun….you _had_ to jump outta bed before the crack of dawn?”

Dean stills for a beat, lifting his eyebrows at his brother, but then laughs openly.

“Uh-Huh, Sammy, not gonna get me to spill my deepest darkest bedroom secrets. Gotta keep _some_ of the magic to myself. Keep you on your toes.” Dean’s grin is infectious and Sam can’t help but chuckle at the sight of his brother’s happy face.

"Oh, it’s a competition now? Should’a said so earlier….I’ll bring my A game from now on.” Sam teases back, thrilled at his brother’s good-natured cockiness, reminding him of a much younger version of Dean.

Of course, Sam isn’t blind, but he chooses to ignore for now that Dean also looks horribly tired and worn out, arguing in his mind that a good night of amazing sex with Lisa is bound to leave one a little sleep-deprived.

“HA, never a competition, Sammy. I’ve got _years_ on you. But I’m happy to keep teaching you, in our own time.”  Dean winks at his little brother, who snorts in mock derision and presently dissolves into a coughing fit as scrambled eggs invade his windpipe and nose.

Dean pats Sam gently on the back. “Hey, careful. I know my _awesomeness_ can be a bit….much. But there’s no reason to choke on it.” 

Sam takes in a huge gulp of air, clears his throat and then washes the rest of the eggs down with coffee before he leans in close and lowers his voice conspiratorially.

“Think you’re a little confused there, big brother. I recall _that_ fact exactly in reverse.” He stretches out a finger towards Dean’s mouth and swipes at a speck of Nutella on the corner of it before sucking that finger into his own mouth suggestively.

_Fuck, Sammy!_

Dean blushes furiously and is surprised at way his blood rushes equally quickly to his face and his groin at Sam’s words and the obscenely hot sight in front of him.

Now it’s Sam’s turn to laugh freely at Dean’s adorable ‘caught’ expression and the unconscious shimmying of his hips on the chair as he stares fixedly at Sam’s mouth. It’s reminding him of the time Dad had caught Dean re-organizing his stash of skin mags in his duffle and Dad’s consequent remark that _‘the space would be better used for an extra gun or ammo, because that type of shooting actually saves lives’._

After a moment in which both of them gather their wits about them again, Dean sits down next to Sam and asks quietly.

“Sam?”

“Hhm?”

“You _were_ ….okay with….last night, right? Really?” Dean stares into his coffee cup.

Sam looks at his brother with a soft smile and answers without any hesitation. “Yes, Dean. _Totally_.”

Dean darts a look up at Sam and is caught by the honest joy sparkling in his deep hazel eyes.

“Was it….fun? Or…..as good as you….remembered? Ya know, from when you told me about it….back in the day?” Sam asks almost shyly.

Dean wants to protest that he can’t remember ever telling Sam anything about it, but of course he had, so he simply settles for the truth.

“So much _better._ ” His tone is passionate and deep.

Sam smiles and nods, his mind a confusing jumble of conflicting emotions for a second, which he desperately tries to hide. _(‘GOOD, I want Dean to have that, be happy, with Lisa. GOD, what if that’ll snap him out of whatever we’ve been doing?’_ )

“Hey, Sam?”

“Hhmm?”

“Ya know, I just don’t wanna….I mean, was it….weird….for you?” Dean stutters to a halt.

Sam looks at him searchingly, funny little wrinkle between his brows, eyes squinting.

“Weird?”

“Yeah.” Dean clears his throat. “That…we’re…it’s so….close.”

Sam huffs a little laugh. “Oh, you mean that you and Lisa were just a couple of doors down?”

Dean wordlessly rubs at his neck, ducking his head slightly in a half-nod-half-shrug gesture speaking clearly of his discomfort.

"No, man, it really wasn’t _weird_ for me. Did you….feel weird about it?”

_‘Jesus, what a conversation to have….but I guess, we’ll have to figure shit like this out, if we want it to work?’_

Dean squirms a little in his seat, but then looks straight at Sam. “Honestly, no. Wasn’t really on my brain, ya know? Kinda busy.” His mouth quirks into a tiny smile. “Just sayin’, if it’s an issue….I….”

“No issue, dude, really, honestly…don’t know how else to say it.” Sam’s smile starts out big and warm before it turns mischievous and he rushes through the next words in a bit of a jumble. “Actually kinda thought it was, ya know, kinda hot.” 

Dean gapes at him. “Huh?”

“Yeah, I mean, thinking about you and Lisa….ya know….it’s fucking HOT.”  Sam gnaws at his lower lip and the deep wrinkle between his brows is back as he waits for Dean’s reaction.

_Was that too much? Too soon?_

Much to Sam’s relief the cockiest grin yet is spreading over Dean’s features and turn his eyes bright green with pride and understanding. He gives a little nod towards Sam’s crotch.

“Soooo, you had…. _fun_ , too?”

“M-Maybe.” Sam looks up at Dean from under his lashes.

_‘Fuck, being with Lisa while Sam is thinking of us and jerking off, because I am with Lisa. Can it get any fucking hotter? Yeah, maybe….if it all happens in the same room….’_ Dean marvels again at the fact that this all feels so okay and at Sam’s openness.

“You ok?” Sam asks after a moment, concerned about Dean’s suddenly vacant stare into the middle distance.

Dean’s eye cut back to him immediately.

“Fuck yeah.” Dean breathes and l leans in a little closer. “You kinda blow my mind here, ‘s all.” 

And then to Sam’s surprise, considering they are sitting in the open kitchen in bright daylight, Dean closes the distance and kisses him, just as Lisa steps into the kitchen behind them. 

She freezes mid-step for a moment just watching in awe. Dean’s mouth seals over Sam’s lips with warm, firm pressure and one of his hand slides into the hair at the nape of Sam’s neck, while Sam’s hands settle on Dean’s thighs and he squeeze lightly. It’s simple and comforting and speaks of familiarity and love and appreciation – and Lisa can’t rip her eyes from the gorgeous sight, feeling almost like she is part of the kiss, like it’s meant for her to some extent.

Sam’s eyes blink open then and widen in shock as they lock on Lisa’s. She quickly smiles and shakes her head to reassure him and prevent him from stopping. But Dean must have felt her presence in the room or Sam’s sudden apprehension as he breaks the kiss and turns slightly.

“Oh, hey, Lis. Sorry.” He smiles a little sheepishly at her as he stands up to greet her.

She steps into him closely, hands resting on his waist, and kisses him on the mouth, tasting the remnants of Sam there. She then bends down and kisses Sam on the lips as well, tasting Dean there in turn.

_GOD, this is really happening…._

“Don’t apologize, Guys. As long as I get my fair share.” She teases with a warm smile. “Just….be careful when Ben’s in the house, ok? We haven’t even had a chance to talk to him.” 

“Yeah, of course.” Sam blurts and looks in mild panic through the kitchen door into the hallway.

“No worries, he’s still sleeping like a bear in winter.” Lisa chuckles and squeezes Sam’s shoulder.

“Sorry, Lis, just…got carried away a little.” Dean adds and steps in close from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist, fitting her shoulders to his chest, the firm curve of her ass against his groin.

_‘Christ, she feels amazing.’_

_‘Fuck, they do look HOT together.’_

_‘Come on Sam, step up and join us.’_

All of their thoughts wandering a similar path for a moment.

Worried about her child in the house, Lisa finally sighs and steps out of Dean’s arms and from between the two men. She looks around at the elaborate breakfast offerings on the table and the chaos in the kitchen sink. 

“Sooo, is that what you were doing in the middle of the night, when you left me?”  She asks in a light tone, one graceful eyebrow arched and her head cocked playfully to the side. “I guess, I can’t argue with it then, if this is the result.”

She isn’t quite prepared for the way Dean’s smile slips, his eyes shutter and his shoulders slump slightly at the reminder of last nights interrupted sleep, leaving him looking thin and hollow all of a sudden. Or the way Sam’s eyes snap up to hers sharp concern and open question in his gaze.

_‘Uh Oh, stepped right into that one, crap. Dean must have had another nightmare and not told Sam, I guess.’_

She had woken up around four in the morning to find the other side of her bed cold and deserted. Slightly hurt at the thought that Dean preferred to return to his brother’s bed after what she had considered one of the best nights of her life, she had crept out of bed, justifying her track past the brothers’ room with her sudden urge to pee. Seeing the door of the Winchester’s room slightly ajar, she couldn’t help herself but to take a peek, just to find Sam alone in a tangle of sheets taking up pretty much every inch of the double bed. No sign of Dean anywhere. She stood for a long moment at the top of the stairs, guessing at the situation and contemplating if it was better for Dean to leave him be or try to offer help. In the end she decided to respect his obvious preference for solitude and went back to bed with a heavy heart, wishing that Dean would eventually find a way to share his concerns with her and Sam instead of separating himself from everyone.

Looking at the two men in her kitchen now and the way they reacted to her simple comment, she isn’t so sure that she made the right decision earlier. She levels an apologetic look on Sam with a minute shake of her head. He nods back at her slightly and shrugs one shoulder with a little sigh.

Dean finally breaks the somewhat awkward pause in the conversation and resumes their light banter.

“Well, I live to serve….in any way. Magic will be made.” His smile, voice and demeanor slightly forced.

“MAN, something smells _so great_!” Ben crows from the top of the stairs and just like that the sudden tension between the three adults in the room breaks.

_‘Kid’s got a super power. Rescue adults from emo overload. Saving people, too.’_  Dean thinks gratefully just as Lisa calls up to her son.

“Bathroom first, then breakfast.”

“Aaaawwww, mom.” Ben whines.

“Dude, it’s not going anywhere.” Dean adds his voice to the exchange. “Unless you take forever. No guarantee Sam will leave you any bacon.”

They hear Ben dashing to the bathroom, a suspiciously brief period of running water, Ben sprinting back to his room and finally stampeding down the stairs before skidding around the corner of the door frame, eyes already searching for his favorite breakfast item. When he can’t spot it right away on the table or counter, his face pulls into a furious glower and he looks exasperated at Sam.

“Really, Sam? ALL of it?” 

Sam grins around a mouthful of toast and lifts his hands palms up in surrender. “Shorrrry.”

Just then the microwave pings and Dean pulls out the reheated bacon spreading the delicious smell through the kitchen in an intense wave.

“Ooooh, Dean, you are the BEST.” Ben’s face lights up like Christmas morning as he holds up his fist for a bump.

Dean laughs and obliges the boy before setting down the plate.

“Had to fight him for it. Hard. Better pay me back for it.” Dean jokes and picks up one of the hot, crispy strips for himself.

“Shhhuuure, mame ur prifffe” Ben mumbles through a full mouth. 

Lisa puts her hands on her hips and swings a droll stare at all three and chides.

“Are you kidding me? Ben, manners! Sam and Dean, if you don’t have any at least don’t teach Ben the worst of yours. Now, please, can we eat like civilized people?”

“Sorry.” All three ‘kids’ in her kitchen mumble back at Lisa and she can’t fight the grin any longer just so immensely pleased with the entire scene.

After that, breakfast is a lighthearted affair, fueled by a joke competition between Dean and Ben, which has them all in stitches by the end of it when Sam declares Ben the clear winner.

\-----------------------------------------

A little while later Lisa and Ben take care of the kitchen clean up while the brothers pack their sparse belongings into the Impala to finally get on the road to Bobby’s place.

As Dean tosses the last weapons bag into the trunk and closes the lid, he is surprised to find Ben standing on the other side of the car with a serious face.

“What’s up, man?” He asks the kid lightly.

Sam looks up from the shotgun seat where he is organizing the maps for the drive and notices Ben for the first time.

Ben struts a few steps closer and crosses his arms over his chest, still looking deadly serious.

Sam fights to urge to smile at Ben’s obvious posturing and shoots a quick glance at Dean, who seems to have the same reaction, but leans his forearms on the car to meet Ben’s gaze at eye level and just as seriously.

“Ben? What’s on your mind?” Dean lets all humor bleed out of his voice.

“I need to ask you something….like…serious.” Ben looks from one to the other of the Winchesters.

“Ok.” Dean answers. “Shoot.”

“And you gotta promise to answer…..like…also serious.” Ben scowls.

“We promise to give you all the answers we can.” Sam chimes ever the careful negotiator, wary of overextending false hope to the kid.

Ben narrows his eyes at Sam for a moment before he mumbles. “Guess, that’s good enough.”

“So, what’s up?” Sam encourages.

Ben takes a deep breath seeming to suck in all the courage the universe has to offer and asks. “ _Are_ you coming back?”

Both Dean and Sam feel like the air has been punched out of their lungs by the poorly disguised desperation in Ben’s voice. But Dean recovers quickly and states in a firm, calm tone.

“That’s the plan.”

Ben looks at Dean for a long moment before fixing Sam with the same stare, skepticism fighting with hope on his small features.

“ _Both_ of you are coming back, right?” His voice is almost demanding.

“Yes, Ben, we are _both_ coming back.” Sam agrees with this brother in the same sure tone.

A moment of glaring later, Ben lets out a long held breath and nods twice very firmly.  “Good.”

As he is spinning to walk away, Dean calls. “Hey, kiddo, wait.”

Ben stops and turns slowly back around to face them. “Why?”

Dean looks mildly uncomfortable to Sam, but forces to keep a serene expression on his face.

“Can I ask _you_ something?”

“Guess so.” Ben answers a little cautiously.

“Do you _want_ us to come back? _Both_ of us to be here?” Out of the corner of his eye Dean sees Sam still completely, waiting for this most important answer since they opened up to Lisa.

Without a moment’s hesitation Ben answers. “ _Yes,_ of course. Stupid question _._ ”

Sam lets out a breathless chuckle as his heart starts to beat again. “You think so?”

“Yeah, it’s stupid.” Ben repeats and looks at them both in turn as if they had suddenly turned out to be slimy-scaled aliens.

“Why?” Sam asks.

Ben draws his brows together in thought clearly not having expected to be asked to explain himself. After a long moment he turns to Sam.

“Cause…...mom likes you around. She’s more….happy….with you here. You like all the same stuff, like books and weird French movies and yoga and salads, like, what Dean and I think is lame.”

Dean can’t hold back a bark of laughter at the simple, truthful child logic.

Ben continues completely unperturbed turning to Dean now. “And you make mom more happy, too….. don’t really know why…but she’s always sad when you leave, like, before.  ‘Sides it’s cool when you’re here…cause we like all the same stuff…..like cars and action movies and music. So we can hang out….and mom’s happy, too.”

Dean swallows hard, surprised how the simple speech of the kid has developed a direct line to his heart and, like an air-pump, expanding it with every word.

“So, it totally doesn’t suck to have you guys around, is what I’m saying.” Ben’s scowl settles back into place now and his tone is as severe as any ten-year-old can make it. “But, you gotta make up your mind …..cause, if you say you gonna come back and you don’t….if you hurt my mom….I’m gonna have to kick your asses. Like hard.”

Sam bites hard at the inside of his cheek to keep a straight face and to distract himself from the sharp prick at the back of his eyes at the child’s touching words.

Dean nods gravely and says with all the sincerity he can put into these words. “Well noted, man. We are _not_ planning to hurt either of you in any way and we promise we’ll be back….both of us.”

Sam also nods and adds. “Our minds are totally made up and we’re not gonna change them as long as you and your mom want us here.”

Ben spits into his palm and stretches out his little hand. “Shake on it?” 

Sam can see Dean’s eyes glisten with the same amusement and deep emotion he is trying to keep in check himself as they both duplicate Ben’s gesture and shake his hand in turn.

“Alright, when’r you gonna be back?” Ben asks hopefully after cleaning his palm off on his jeans.

Dean sighs and straightens up. “Not sure, Ben, it’ll be a little while.”

“Are you going to hunt some monsters?”

“Nope, not this time,” Sam explains. “We’re going to our friend Bobby’s place, to organize some things and set up the house. Could be a couple of weeks.”

Ben tries not to show his disappointment, but pretty much fails miserably.

Sam grabs a spare cell out of the glove compartment and quickly sets it up with his and Dean’s primary cell numbers as he tells Ben, “Hey, listen, you can _always_ reach us on this, ok? We’re gonna be a few hours drive away but if you need anything or just wanna check in, that’s cool.” Sam hands over the phone to Ben and Dean gives him a quick grateful smile and a nod for the good idea.

“Awesome. Thanks.”

“Oh, and Ben?” Dean says. “You still owe me one, remember?”

Ben stares at him in confusion for a moment then grins. “Yeah…for the bacon!”

“That’s right.” Dean agrees in a serious tone. “So, here’s my price – you gotta look out for you mom, ok? And throw up the bat-signal if anything weird catches your attention, alright?”

“I always protect my mom!” Ben exclaims a little indignantly.

“I know, kiddo. But now you’ve got a direct line to us, if anything seems off. Got it?”

“Yeah, got it.” Ben’s smile is big and bright. “Got my own Avengers on speed-dial. Cool.”

Both Sam and Dean finally bust up laughing at that and clap Ben on his small shoulders in turn.

“Ok, buddy. Whatever you say.” Sam chuckles. “Just keep it between us, ok? We’re not exactly a public service.”

“Yeah, and we don’t want Sam to finally put on his Thor costume and embarrass us all, right?” Dean winks conspiratorially at Ben.

“Na-ha, Sam’s not Thor….Sam’s Vision…or maybe the Hulk, cause he’s got the brains, right?” Ben cocks his head in thought.

Dean’s face falls in mock outrage. “So what am I? Dumb muscle?”

“Nooo, you are Iron Man – ya know, cause of the car and your weapons?”

“Hm, I guess….still think Batman is cooler.” Dean puts in with a smirk. “And Baby could totally be the Bat Mobil.”

Sam just shakes his head and pushes the other two towards the house as they argue about which superhero universe has the cooler characters.

He is damned grateful for Dean’s almost exuberant good mood. Especially in light of the fact that he is about to squash it in the next hour or so by telling Dean where they are actually going first before heading for Singer’s Salvage.

He can also tell that Dean is putting up a brave front by now and quickly losing steam, his fatigue apparent in every line of his body and face, so Sam wants to get them on the road as quickly as possible.

Once in the house, the Winchesters receive heartfelt goodbyes from Lisa, accompanied by loud wretching noises from Ben that earn him a trip upstairs, before they head back to the Impala.

Dean knows that he probably looks as worn and tired as he feels by now despite the easy smile spreading over his face at the promise of the open road and a trip with his brother by his side.

Barely able to walk straight from the deep seated exhaustion the continued lack of sleep has caused him, he decides that it may not be the best idea to start off the road trip by running them into a ditch.

Dean tosses the car keys at Sam and walks himself to the passenger side.

The younger Winchester shoots his brother a surprised glance. Sam is secretly glad that this at least gives him control over the direction they are going as he fully expects to start this journey with a fight about “freaking psychics” and “emo crap” when he reveals his plans to visit Kappi on the way.

“You sure?” Sam calls over the roof of the Impala.

“Yeah, Sammy, think I’ll catch a nap for a bit. ‘S gonna be a long drive.” Dean smiles a little strained and then waves back at Lisa, who is standing on the front porch watching them go. “’M no good to anyone without a bit more sleep.” He mumbles almost inaudibly before he slides into the well-worn shotgun seat and closes the door with the customary creak of old hinges.

As soon as Sam is settled behind the wheel, the engine rumbles to life around them and they pull out of the driveway and down the road a ways, Dean slides lower in his seat and closes his eyes with a sigh.  “Wake me when it’s my turn, will ya?”

_‘Crap, I can’t just drive to Kappi’s and wake Dean up there….that’ll get me knocked out cold, not to mention days of snarking or silent treatment .’_ Sam thinks desperately _.’ I’ll have to give Dean at least a heads up and get the worst of the opposition out of the way before we get there.’_

“Uuhhmm, Dean….” Sam starts reluctantly. “Why don’t you pick some music first.”

Dean opens one eye and glances sideways at his brother who looks studiously out the front window. He sighs again and stretches his arm towards the radio without moving the rest of his body. He can reach just far enough to turn the knob with one finger and pop the waiting cassette tape into the player with another, then he pulls his arm back and goes still again.

As “You Shook Me All Night Long” starts to blare out of the speakers Sam is wracking his brain about how best to lay the Kappi plan on Dean. _Need more time._

“Isn’t AC/DC a little too….much….for you to sleep by?” He tries again. “Maybe you can find something else?”

An annoyed huff issues from Dean, but he doesn’t sit up, only opens both eyes, narrowing them on his brother in suspicion.

“Naw, ‘m fine with AC/DC, Sam. But if _you_ want something else….be my guest.” He drawls slowly and watches for Sam’s reaction.

He can see his brother gnawing on his lower lip and shifting in his seat restlessly which set Dean’s alarm bells clanging to life.

Sam’s eyes don’t leave the road, but they are tightening at the corners and his forehead wrinkles in concern.

“Sam? Do _you_ need other music?” Dean asks casually still observing his brother closely.

“Uhhh, nope, it’s fine. Just thought…” he takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to speak but stops himself and then continues on a soft exhale. “Never mind….”

Dean can feel the unease radiate off his brother, but his brain is too muddled to try and make sense of it at this particular moment. Especially as he feels himself still basking in the afterglow of the great morning they just had. He decides instead it must just be their general trepidation over going to Bobby’s that has Sam freaked. Dean can’t see how talking that little nugget of sunshine to death will make it any easier for either of them and he knows that he is in no shape to stand up to an argument from Sam’s sharp mind in the state he is in at the moment.

_It’ll have to wait until he can get a couple of hours or a day or three of decent shut-eye. Whenever that may be….._

He can feel this eyes droop and the sound of the car combined with her movements and the familiar music pulling him under, so he scoots lower into the seat and leans his head against the window closing his eyes again.

“Dean?” Sam’s voice is soft and small, but Dean can hear the tone of worry mixed with the stubborn need to be heard there, which Sam mastered when he was about five years old, and which never failed to get Dean’s attention since.

“Yeah, Sammy?” He mumbles sleepily, just on the edge of consciousness.

“We’ll have to make a stop on the way.” Sam keeps his tone even, trying to control his apprehension, but determined not to simply surprise Dean with where he plans to take them.

“Sure, Sammy. Where’d ya wanna stop?” Dean’s words are starting to slurr slightly. “Biggest ball o’twine?”

“It’s not for me, it’s for _you,_ Dean.” Sam puts a little more force into the words to keep his brother’s attention.

“Uh-huh. So where?”

“At Kappi’s. You know, the….the healer, who helped me get you back?” He holds his breath bracing for the inevitable explosion.

Sam’s words jolt some life back into Dean’s foggy mind. ‘ _Wait, what?? Sam’s dragging me….where?’_

He forces himself to remain motionless, keeps his eyes closed and his face relaxed. He doesn’t allow his body to follow the knee-jerk reaction of shooting upright in his seat while starting to bitch at his brother, just like any other time Sam starts talking about having his health checked – physically, psychically or otherwise. _FUCK….really…?_

But the brutal fact is that Dean knows that this, no… _he,_ can't go on like this much longer. It’s draining him faster than he likes to admit and he can’t for the life of him figure a way through this crap. Making a choice every night, even if it’s only in his dreams, for either Sam’s or Lisa and Ben’s life just to have _all of them_ slip away from him in the end is starting to haunt him during the daytime hours. He puts up the best front he can muster, but he can see on the other’s faces the way they are able to look right through his shitty, thin veneer to the ugly rotting truth.

_‘Still, can’t believe I’m even **contemplating** this….a psychic….rummaging through my head….why not just cry on the couch of the nearest therapist….’s gonna be about as useful, right? But….really, what other choice do I have? ‘S not getting any better on its own. Already tried the ‘ignore-it-and-barrel-through-tactic’ and it’s foolin’ fucking no one. GODDAMMIT.’_

After long moment’s hesitation, in which Sam is about to jump out of his skin, pull the car around and go straight to Bobby’s or back pedal and tell his brother to forget about it, Dean finally growls.

“OK….fine.”

Sam doesn’t believe his ears.

“What was that, Dean?” Sam turns the music down a bit worried that he misunderstood.

_‘Holy crap, what am I doing??? I must be losing my mind…. But at least it’s **Sam’s** idea…I didn’t ask for it. Really just doing him a favor….’_

Dean crosses his arms over his chest in a defensive gesture, but doesn’t open his eyes, too worried that his face will betray the building panic and he grumbles.

“I said…fine, Sam. Let’s go to Kappi.”

“Really??” Dean’s heart lurches at the hopeful incredulity in Sam’s tone, speaking so clearly of his brother’s desperate trust in this solution.

_‘Maybe…just maybe, it’ll help….can’t get much worse, that’s for damn sure.’_

“Fuck, why not. She cracked that hard noggin of mine before…who knows….might work again…”

“Yeah….yeah, exactly what I’ve been thinking….she’ll help figure out what’s causing the nightmares….maybe? She’s great, Dean….you’ll see.” He sounds so giddy with relief that Dean feels slightly guilty knowing exactly what kind of reaction Sam must have been expecting from him at the suggestion.

“Well, I’ll reserve judgment on that point for later. Now, shut up and lemme sleep or I might change my mind before we get there, Sammy.” He rumbles but keeps his tone friendly enough.

“OK.” Sam agrees and then after a few beats. “Dean?”

“Still talking…..” A warning cadence slips into Dean’s voice. 

“Just….. _thanks…._ for giving this a shot.”

“Hhhmpff.”

It doesn’t take long after that for Dean to fall asleep, a tiny kernel of hope growing in his chest.


	13. AFFIRMATION

About half an hour from Kappi’s house Sam stops to fill up the Impala. He stands at her tail holding the nozzle when he hears the passenger side door open and turns slightly to see Dean climb out and stretch with a groan.

Cautious about Dean’s mood, Sam concentrates on filling the gas tank until he sees the trunk dip under his brother’s weight as the older Winchester leans against his Baby.

Sam feels his tension rise again, fully expecting Dean to make a case against their planned stop at the eleventh hour. He is just about to launch into a list of reasons why this is really a good idea when Dean says in a forced casual tone.

“So….Kappi, huh?”

Sam exhales slowly, biting back the barrage of words at the tip of his tongue. He carefully finishes the fill-up, closes the gas cap, and stows the nozzle looking anywhere but at Dean.

“Yeah, we’re about half an hour out.” Sam says in a neutral tone and starts to walk towards the convenience store to pay, but Dean grabs his arm and stops him.

Sam freezes mid step and turns slightly, finally looking at Dean. Searching his face he can see the calm mask Dean has put on to hide his true emotions, but he knows his brother too well and it’s easy for him to read the warring feelings of skepticism and hope, distaste and desperation in his eyes as he steadily holds Sam’s gaze.

“You _know_ this might not work, right?” Dean’s voice is low and hoarse.

“Can’t _hurt_ either, though.” Sam adds quietly after a thoughtful pause.

“Just….don’t wanna have you get your hopes up too high. You hear me?” Dean’s eyes bore into Sam’s willing him to understand. 

“It worked before. We gotta try, Dean.” Sam’s working hard to keep the annoyance out of his tone at his brother’s stubborn refusal to look out for his own well-being. _‘How about **your**_ hopes, dumbass??’

“Just sayin’ this thing….with the nightmares….I might just have to get used to it. S’ not gonna _kill_ me.”

Sam has to hold back a snort of derision at that comment, because from where he’s standing his brother looks more like the Walking Dead than alive and well every day. But it won’t do to start a fight about this now, when Dean is at least partly agreeable to the plan. He takes a deep breath.

“Let’s just keep that thought for _after_ we tried everything else, ok?” Sam stares right back into Dean’s intense green eyes trying to convey that he’s not going to back down from this. “Please?”

The older Winchester flinches ever so slightly at the plea and his hand grips Sam’s arm a little stronger. There is a long moment of passionate non-verbal arguing and pleading taking place between them that would look like a staring contest to any unsuspecting observer, but in the end Dean relaxes the tiniest bit and sighs deeply.

“OK, Sammy, I’m in…..but don’t say I didn’t warn ya.”

Then he claps his little brother on the shoulder and sighs. “You better get me some coffee, if you want me to be in any presentable shape in thirty minutes.”

Sam barks a relieved laugh and nods.

“Yeah, yeah, ok. Gotcha.” He calls back as he disappears into the grimy store hoping to find some decent java.

\--------------------------------------------------------

As Sam maneuvers the car carefully up the rugged drive leading to Kappi’s little house in the woods, Dean is contemplating the best way to bolt as soon as they stop.

_A brisk run through the woods would do him good, right?_

The last half hour of the drive had been marked by an increasingly tense silence and Dean’s nerves are now coiled so tightly, as if they are going to take on a nest of vamps around the next turn.

 _Hell, he’d rather face that than having a complete stranger dig around in his head discovering God knows what long-repressed morsel of rotten crap. What had he been thinking agreeing to this. He was a Winchester…repressing uncomfortable personal shit was their trademark. FUCK!_  

By the anxious sidelong glances Sam is shooting his direction every few minutes, Dean can tell that his brother is on to him already and probably wracking his brain on how to calm him down or slap a set of cuffs on him to prevent his escape. He isn't entirely sure that he’ll be able to keep his temper in check if Sam tries either.

_No, actually he is pretty damned sure that he won’t. This situation is just flinging him so far outside of his comfort zone he is practically on another planet altogether._

_At least when he’s this keyed up on a hunt there are punches to throw, shots to take and heads to lop off to take the pressure off. But right now when he’s about to crawl out of his skin at the thought of exposing himself to a freakin’ psychic and he is supposed to be all zen and Yoda-like? Fat chance._

His mouth is bone dry, his skin feels too tight and his stomach seems to be bouncing in counter point to the potholed road testing his resilience to keep his breakfast down when the drive finally opens up and reveals the picturesque setting of Kappi’s home.

“Huh.” Dean muses gruffly. “Looks like the creepy witch from Hansel and Gretel lives here. You sure she didn’t feed you cake and cookies last time? Get you all hooked?”

Sam’s own tension breaks somewhat at that and he bursts out laughing, if a little maniacally. He is both amazed that Dean finally gets _one_ fairytale right and amused by the fact that he had imagined Dean saying exactly _that_ when he pulled up to the healer’s house the last time. 

Dean looks at Sam with a scowl, but feels his anxiety ease a little at his brother’s mirth.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing.” Sam still chuckles heartily and can feel himself relax at the sight of the house and the knowledge that he got his brother this far. “Just, we kinda had this conversation already.”

“Noooo….we haven’t.” Dean says dubiously, stretching out the words.

“Yeah, we did….the last time I brought you here.” His brother grins.

“Uuuhm, ‘m pretty sure I wasn’t _sayin’_ anything then.” Dean looks genuinely confused now.

“Well, not out loud, I give you that. But you totally said the same thing in my head.” Sam retorts.

That shuts Dean up for a moment before he asks in a tone like he’s talking to a small child.

“Sam, are you sure _you_ don’t need some help? I mean, hearing voices in your head, isn’t a good sign….even for our level of crazy.”

“Oh, screw you….” Sam says without any heat as he smiles brightly at his brother. “What’d ya expect? I just got tired of the quiet and having zombie-you sit next to me for so long was a little creepy, soooo, we kinda talked….in my head.”

Dean’s stomach rolls uneasily at the reminder of what Sam had to deal with while he was in that state, but he tries to keep his tone light when he answers.

“Yeah? Bet I didn't give you half the shit in your brain like I normally do. Must miss that, huh?”

Sam puts the Impala in park next to the walk leading to the front door. He turns to his brother with an abruptly serious expression, enunciating every word clearly to drive home his point.

“I would happily take an ass kicking and your best verbal abuse _every_ day before I _ever_ want to see you like that again, Dean.” His gorgeous hazel eyes blaze with an intensity that it takes Dean’s breath away for a second. “Dish out whatever you want to and I won’t object as long as you are back….with me.” 

The utter love and conviction in Sam’s voice sends a warm wave surging through Dean’s body as his cheeks color and his eyes sting.

_‘Jesus, the kid is killing me here. And noooo these are absolutely not tears, just the wind making my eyes water. FUCK, I need to get back to normal…I want to be…all there…for him…them. I can **do** this. There’s just too much at stake now not to try.’  _

Then he nods tightly and blinks a couple of times rapidly before he says in a low and determined voice.

"Ok, Sammy. Let’s go and have the witch _fix_ me then.”

 Sam’s face lights up with another brilliant smile and he takes Dean’s face between his palms and kisses him quick and firm on the mouth.

 "You got it! Let’s go. But better not let her hear you say that….I dunno _what_ her talents are, beyond the healing, I mean.” And he practically leaps from the car in his eagerness to get started.

As they walk to the door, Dean feels his apprehension suddenly ease. Calm washes over him and he is fully aware that it isn’t entirely of his doing. A wonderfully fresh herbal scent seems to embrace them and lift his spirits at the same time as it raises his alertness.

_This is strange…._

He shakes his head slightly as if wanting to clear it and looks sharply at Sam, who just smiles and raises his hand to knock.

“It’s the flowers, man, nothing to worry about.” He assures.

“Yeah, sure…nothing to worry.” Dean grumbles sarcastically as he turns a little and looks at the colorful flowerbeds flanking the entry. “She’s probably drugging us with some evil Oz poppies…making us all compliant before she eats us.”

“Well, it’s always nice to meet a person who is so open-minded and positive when they come to me for help,” an amused, warm voice sounds to his right and he whirls about to face the stout woman with the shock of unruly brown hair and vivid blue eyes standing in the door. “Good to see you, Dean.”

His face suddenly feels like he’s got mild sunburn and he self-consciously clears his throat, while she laughs and holds her hand out to him.

“Uuuhm, I…didn’t mean….” Dean says a little flustered and looks at Sam for help who is glaring at him exasperatedly.

But he finally steps up and shakes Kappi’s hand firmly. “I am sorry. This is just….kinda….new for me.” He smiles at her sheepishly. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Nonsense, I have a pretty tough skin. Comes with the territory when half the world thinks I _am_ a witch. And I guess, I’m not helping the ignorant folks by living in this _witchy_ house, am I right?” She holds his gaze calmly with a small smile curving her mouth at the corners.

Dean feels himself color again, called out on his earlier judgment, but he catches himself and retorts.

“Could be a good strategy to keep unwanted visitors away.”

At that she laughs again, clear and appealing, and shakes his hand once more. “You got that right.”

Then she lets go and turns to Sam looking at him intently for a moment before she pulls him into a firm hug. “I am very happy to see you, Hon. You did _good._ ”

Sam hugs her back a little awkwardly, having to bend low to the considerably shorter woman, and pats her on the back. “Yeah, thanks, uhm, glad to see you, too.”

Dean lifts his eye brows at the scene a little surprised and Sam gives him a crooked smile.

“Now don’t just stand here like salt pillars….come in, come in. Seems we got our work cut out for us.”

With that she disappears into the house and leaves the Winchesters on the stoop to exchange an uneasy look at her last comment.

Dean’s eyes go wide in question at his brother (“ _What the fuck, dude?_ ”), but he just shakes his head a little signaling ignorance at her meaning (“ _No clue, man”)_ , but then Sam levels a playful look at Dean (“ _’Course you’re always a piece of work._ ”), which Dean answers with a scowl (“ _Careful or I’ll show ya”)._

As soon as they step inside, Dean takes a surreptitious look around, which doesn’t go unnoticed by their hostess, but which she simply smiles and shakes her head about. 

_Hunters! Always suspicious. But who can blame them._

“Make yourself comfortable, please,” she says and gestures invitingly at the couch. “I’ll be right back with some cookies and tea.”

Dean shoots Sam a triumphant look this time (‘S _ee…Hansel and Gretel, man’_ ), but Sam just gives an annoyed eye roll (‘ _Oh, shut up…’_ ) and strolls to the armchair he had sat in during his last visit leaving Dean to reluctantly settle on the couch.

“At least there aren’t any jars with pickled frogs or eyeballs or some weird shit on the shelves.” Dean mutters quietly and continues gazing around cataloguing exits and potential hiding spots out of pure instinct.

He is surprised and a little relieved at the normalcy of the interior of the house, which doesn’t resemble anything like he imagined from the outside. Even with the influence of the flowers gone, he feels almost relaxed here. The bright, hospitable atmosphere and comfortable lived-in feel of the place give of a homey and non-threatening vibe. Kappi herself with her easygoing familiarity and no nonsense attitude doesn’t rouse any suspicion or instinctive defensiveness in him either.

Sam watches him a little nervously, still half expecting Dean to stage a last minute escape, but when his brother leans back in his seat and slings an arm over the back of the couch he releases a slow long breath and relaxes visibly himself.

Just then Kappi comes back into the room with a laden tray in her hands and both men get up to help her.

“Well, thank you, gentlemen, that’s mighty kind of you.” She smiles at them warmly.

The mouthwatering smell of the freshly baked pecan chocolate chip cookies quickly fills the air around them and the ice in the tall tea glasses clinks merrily when Dean sets the tray down on the sturdy coffee table. He has to restrain himself from grabbing one of the delicious baked treats immediately.

Dean sits back down and looks expectantly at their hostess who calmly watches him with a small smile on her face.

“Please, Dean, dig in. I can practically hear your stomach growling.” Kappi gives a short bark of laughter as Dean looks embarrassed and unconsciously rubs over his belly. “I sure didn’t bake these cookies for myself.” She pats her hip gently and smiles ruefully. “Although they _are_ my favorite.”

Dean smiles crookedly at her and takes a cookie just as Sam pipes up.

“That was really not necessary, Kappi. We don’t want to take up any more of your time then we have to.”

Dean directs a disgruntled glance at Sam and Kappi chuckles and chides.

“All business, huh, Sam? There is nothing wrong with a little ‘Kaffeeklatsch’ first. Get to know each other a bit. It’ll make things easier….later.”

Sam can see a split second unease flicker over Dean’s face and wants to kick himself for being so impatient. He is surprised to find that he is suddenly making up for Dean’s lack of nerves with his own anxiety and takes a deliberate slow breath to ease some of the tension building in his gut.

He is still trying to figure out how to take back his statement when Dean saves him from having to do so.

“They smell amazing,” he says, takes a big bite and then fights hard against the urge to groan with pleasure as the still warm chocolate oozes out of the cookie mixing with the delicious taste of the nuts and cookie crumbles. “Taste e’en be’a.”  He mumbles in appreciation earning another warm laugh from Kappi and a pained expression and huffed out breath from Sam, who only grabs a glass of tea from the tray, toying with it between his large hands.

The healer settles on the couch next to Dean and extends her senses towards the two visitors trying to get a better read on the situation and Dean’s condition before they start anything more delicate or complicated. She immediately picks up on the waves of concern pouring off of Sam and is surprised to find that his emotions towards Dean have expanded even more, grown even deeper, since their last meeting. That part of his energy feels like a strong pulse, sure and steady, unwavering and resolute, warm and nourishing. The worry and disquiet for his brother’s well-being skittering across his aura like an irregular shock of electricity.

Turning her attention to Dean, she feels his energy muted or _shielded_ somehow _._ It is definitely darker in flavor, more disrupted in its flow. But even though Dean looks tired and a bit threadbare and he is definitely in doubt about something, she is pleased to find a core strength and surety of mind underneath that initial layer of exhaustion and confusion, which is vastly different from the lost and frightened man Sam brought to her last time. She can also sense a fiery glowing anger simmering deep down, that seems to be directed inward, which she simply catalogues for exploration later. What gives her the most hope that she will be able to help Dean to sort out his issues is the fact that overlaying all of these conflicting vibes there is a strong answering pulse of immense emotion and intense need directed at Sam, echoing the younger Winchester’s own.

 _‘Gods, these two are so clearly meant to be together in any way and every way it’s like a cosmic joke that it has taken them this long to figure out. But they definitely did. Something momentous happened between them, they’re just not completely in sync….not yet….’_ Kappi marvels at the potential for a truly full life, if they ever let themselves completely embrace this relationship and their bond in a balanced and equal way.

She clears her throat and smiles at both of them.

“So, Dean, what brings you here today?”

Dean looks up from his second cookie and she can see a guarded expression beginning to shutter his features just before he hooks a thumb at Sam.

“He did.”

Kappi keeps her face friendly and open.

“Well, I didn’t see him exactly dragging you here by the shirt collar.”

“It was a close thing.” Dean gives her a cocky grin, but feels his stomach drop into some type of abyss at the same time.  _Shit….this is it…I guess. What do I do? Where do I start?_

“So, are you saying that you are here against your own free will? Just to please your brother?” Her tone is dispassionate.

Dean looks at her intently, registers the open interest and warm concern in her summer sky blue eyes.

“I….no….I did….agree, I guess. I mean it was his idea, but…..” He trails off, at a loss for how to make the first step, how to ask for help. He stares at his hands and puts the half-eaten cookie down.

Sam’s heart contracts painfully at Dean’s show of discomfort and he wants nothing more than to help, to jump in, to explain, but Kappi had warned him against it during their phone call, when she told him that Dean would have to _want_ the help, if this had any chance of working.

“Sam told me that you’ve been doing amazingly well with your recovery, since you….woke up.” Kappi hedges and smiles at Dean encouragingly.

Dean snorts and looks at Sam, but there is no heat to his gaze, just a plea for help. Sam is gnawing on his bottom lip like he is restraining himself from speaking and Dean can see the funny little bunch between his eyebrows, a sure sign that his little brother is worried. His stomach rolls uneasily.

_FUCK, man up. Why are you here otherwise…_

“Yeah, I guess, I’m doin’ pretty good considering I’ve been a walking corpse for weeks.”

Ignoring the self-deprication completely Kappi continues. “I hear you’ve already been doing most things that are part of your regular life? Even exercise, sparring and shooting? And you haven’t suffered any major setbacks?”

Dean frowns at the ground.

“Well, I’m getting better…I guess. Nowhere near what I was before….”

“Dean, no one expects that…” Sam can’t help himself. It’s just too much to see Dean still beating himself up over something he has not caused nor has any control over.

Dean’s eyes come up to meet Sam’s and they lock for a moment – brilliant green merging with warm hazel.  Kappi can see the silent conversation going on between the two, but doesn’t speak enough “Winchester” to decipher it. Even without a full understanding she can sense the support and adoration flowing from Sam that is only reluctantly accepted by the other man but flows _from_ him in equal measure. 

After a minute nod from Dean he finally turns his head and looks at her, straightening his back and shoulders.

“I know, Sam thinks I am too hard on myself, but I’ve never been out of the game for this long….so….I guess…it’s taking me awhile to accept that I’m not….back to my old form yet.” He smiles, but it’s small and edged with tension.

“I agree with Sam on that, Dean.” Kappi says in a firm tone without any pity or indulgence. “I work with many trauma victims and I can tell you, that what you have achieved in this short of a time borders on incredible. Most of the people I work with regularly can’t do much more than interact minimally at first and they are often plagued by panic attacks and terrible anxiety whenever they are asked or force themselves to take bigger part in normal daily activity.”

Dean feels his apprehension ease a little at her calm, reassuring tone and obvious experience.

He nods slightly. “I did have a couple of close calls….with the….panic.” 

Sam’s brow creases, but he quickly smoothes his face into a less severe expression. ‘ _When was that? Why didn’t he say anything if he was scared?’_ He scoffs inwardly at the stupidity of that question and is suddenly reminded of Dean’s almost possessive demeanor in the kitchen before the _pie episode_ and again in the shower the other day. ‘ _Was that it? Was Dean taking charge because he’d had a moment of panic before…..? Shit. I should’ve seen that, tried to help. But I just enjoyed the fuck out of what it gave **me**. GOD, I’m a total self-involved asshole!’  _

“Ok. That is perfectly normal. But, Dean, it takes some of the patients months and sometimes years to feel fully integrated again and able to function normally and make sound decisions for themselves. _You_ on the other hand have been out and about, going about your life and actively trying to get back in shape. _That_ is remarkable and shows enormous strength.”

“Well, curling up in a ball and hiding was never my MO.” Dean smiles at her, but it is still a little half-hearted.

Kappi chuckles warmly. “No, I can’t feel that in you either. In fact, I see quite the opposite - always pushing forward, pushing yourself, pushing away any obstacle….that is more like it, right?”

Dean shrugs one shoulder, but stays silent.

“So, if we are assuming that you are actually well on your way to getting back your regular life….if that is what you want….then, Dean, what brings you here?”

Dean squirms on the couch for a moment and wishes fervently that Sam was sitting next to him, that he could feel him closer, maybe bump shoulders or legs…..anything…. He feels exposed and alone and is about to jump out of his own skin, but fights hard to keep his breaths calm and even.

“I have nightmares.” His voice comes out rougher than he intended and he clears his throat again.

Kappi nods sagely.

“Go on.”

“Uhm, yeah. They’re….pretty bad.” Dean’s hand comes up unconsciously and rubs over his back of his neck. He forces himself to keep eye-contact with Kappi. “I mean, it’s not….we….in our line of work, I mean…it’s not unusual to have nightmares.”

He falters again, suddenly unsure, if this is really the right thing to do. _Fucking Fuck, this is hard._

His hands start to feel sweaty.

Kappi can see his rising agitation and intervenes in a gentle voice.

“But these are _different_?”

_Shit, he hadn’t even thought about that. He hadn’t told Sam what he dreamt about. He doesn’t really want him to know the extent of the nightly horror show and think him weak for not being able to shake it off. But it’s too late to back out now….just has to choose his words wisely._

His eyes flick to Sam, who seems to have frozen in his seat to keep from interfering with the slightest chance of Dean finally opening up. The older brother quickly settles his gaze back on the healer on his other side to escape Sam’s impossibly hopeful expression. He nods tightly.

“Yeah, they are. More frequent for one. Pretty much every night now. And more vivid somehow, but not really clear. They don’t stick around….much…when I wake up.”

Kappi sees Dean’s eyes shadow with pain and drift past her focusing in the middle distance. She clearly senses the lie and intent to keep Sam from worrying even more by keeping the subject of the dreams a secret.

She carefully considers the best approach to the next steps and decides to first give Dean an out of what seems to be the biggest issue for him.

“So, if you can’t remember the dreams, we can’t really interpret them together.”

His attention snaps to her like a taught rubber band springing back into place and his eyes are blazing fiercely at her as he speaks quick and harsh.

“I don’t need any dream interpretation…don’t wanna…..dig…. Look, maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.”

He half-rises from the couch and Kappi just manages to grab his forearm and pull him back down before he can move out of her reach. She can see Sam’s face fall as he, too, makes a move off his chair, although it is unclear to her if he means to settle Dean back down or join him in the run for the door. She shakes her head at Sam, but for a moment she isn't certain that he’ll take her lead, looking like a powerful half-crouched lion ready to defend his pride mate.

_These Boys….they don’t even notice how completely entangled they are. Two parts of one whole._

“Dean?” Her voice is steady, but firm and slightly reprimanding. “Please, sit down.”

Dean glares at her, defensive anger clear in his face, but eyes burning with chagrin and uncertainty nevertheless.

“You need to listen to me, before biting my head off for something I did _not_ say.” She studies his expression and posture for any sign of remaining opposition, but all she sees is a carefully put together calm settling back over him, no doubt from years of practice of being under incredible pressure.

“I _want_ to help you, Dean. And I think I _can_ help you, if you let me. I _promise_ that I will not push or poke at things you do not want me to know or experience.” She squeezes his hard knotted forearm gently and then lets go of him completely to avoid making him feel trapped or held in any way, knowing full well that it has to be _him_ making the decision to stay. Instead, Kappi takes a glass of tea from the tray and sits back in the couch more fully to signal her own ease.

She focuses her concentration back on the brothers fascinated by their show of awareness of the other and the minute signals passing as communication between them without ever so much as looking at each other directly. She waits patiently for them to make up their mind. 

Finally both Winchesters relax back into their respective seats and Dean lifts his gaze to her once more, suddenly serious and open.

“I apologize, Kappi.” He states gruffly. “I didn’t mean to snap at you. I know you are willing to help me and I do appreciate it.” He rubs a hand down his face and scratches briefly at his stubbled jaw. “I just don’t know how…..”

“Well, that isn’t your job now, is it? That’s why you are here, so _I_ can try to figure it out.” She smiles at him warmly and continues before he can respond. “I understand that this is unusual for you and believe me, you are far from the only one who has some issues or doubts over my practices. But, Dean, our last session together, even with you unaware, was very successful and I really do believe that we have a good chance to work through whatever causes you these nightmares.”

“How?” He asks quietly and she can hear the beginning of hope edging out the tired resignation in it.

“I don’t know how much Sam has told you about my methods?”

“Uhm, not much….didn’t really come up.” Dean admits.

Kappi is not surprised by the fact that Dean has no idea what is in store for him. From Sam’s subtle warnings about Dean’s skepticism the last time they had been at her house and Dean’s apparent “don’t ask, don’t tell” attitude towards the proceedings she has a good idea what careful maneuvering it must have taken the younger brother to get the other here at all.

“I am an empath and healer.” She starts matter of factly. “I read energy signatures and flows when I am connected with a person. I can see if that person is on their best suited path or was detoured from it for some reason. And most of the time, I get a pretty clear picture of the causes behind the wreck or blockage and can help the person to get back to their road or at least clear some of the debris.”

Sam muses that Kappi’s explanation of her methods and abilities is delivered to Dean in a very different way than when she had given him the information. He marvels at the fact that Kappi can obviously sense that less detail and more straightforward need-to-know facts always work best with Dean, whereas Sam needs to have more of a complete picture of every situation and the chance to analyze it on his own to feel comfortable. Sam’s eyes travel to Dean’s intense face as he listens to Kappi and he can see in his brother’s demeanor that they are past the point of stubborn opposition now. He relaxes a little more back into his seat and concentrates on the conversation.

“Okay”, Dean draws out the work in thought. “So, you hook us together and tow me back to the highway I’m supposed to travel on? That easy?”

Kappi chuckles. “Basically, yeah, we’ll try to see what is blocking the road and steer you around it, to stick with your metaphor. While we are connected, I get an impression of your feelings and thoughts, but only what you are willing to share or the things you are completely unaware of. I have _no_ control over you or your thoughts and I am _not_ opening any doors you don’t unlock for me first. It’s really more like a third person view of a situation you got yourself stuck in or can’t see for yourself. Does that make sense?”

Dean nods thoughtfully, but still looks slightly in doubt.

“What if my brain decides that it doesn’t want to share anything? Then what? Can you force it?”

“No, Dean, there _will not be_ any forcing or influencing on my part. I need you to understand and believe that. You are in control. I only see what you let me see. Now that you are awake, you can signal me to get out of your consciousness at any time. It's as easy as….let’s see, what might fit…..uuuhm….yes, as easy as imagining a big, bright red STOP sign and I will leave.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really. And it is not actually your brain I am inside of, when we are connected, Dean. But that part is hard to explain. It is more like being in deep meditation together with you letting me share your head space and consciousness…your….being.”

“Uhm, I know you don’t know me well, but I ….tend to….kinda push that stuff _away_ from me or lock it up….not invite another…..mind….for a girly hair-braiding-share-fest.” Dean grumbles darkly. 

“That is your _brain_ talking, your conscious thought and desire to protect yourself. But what we will be doing is going beyond that….past that to your subconscious….your core, if you will.”

Kappi starts to think that Dean will never relax enough to allow this to work when she is surprised by the younger Winchester’s input.

“Dean, man,” Sam’s voice drifts over from his chair, unruffled and slightly amused and Dean looks over to his little brother, leaning forward elbows on knees and smiling at him softly. “Really? What’s with the twenty questions? She helped you before, remember? Isn’t that enough?”

Sam is relieved to see the last traces of unease fade from Dean’s striking eyes at his words and he continues confidently.

“Kappi explained the whole procedure to me in detail last time and I read a lot about it after. It’s totally legit and she’s helped a ton of people already….besides you, I mean. Much tougher cases than yours, too. Do you really _want_ the thousand page Lord of the Rings book version of it? Or is the abridged movie version ok for you?”

A wave of gratefulness for the way his brother gets him spreads through Dean and he can’t hold back a grin.

“You know I think the movie version was still too long and way too confusing.”  

Sam grins back brightly. “Yeah, I know.”

Then Dean looks back at Kappi still grinning more assuredly now.

“Okay, then, let's get this show on the road….”

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 

After Kappi prepares herself and settles with her tools on the coffee table in front of Dean and Dean finds a comfortable position on the couch that feels more like getting ready to enjoy watching the game on TV than being hypnotized – _or whatever the technical term is here –_ she looks at him searchingly before speaking the previously discussed words.

“Dean, are you ready to let me join you and try to help you find your way?” 

“Yes, I am willingly inviting you to join me and help me see my road clearly.” His voice is calm and sure now as he looks straight back at her.

Kappi closes her eyes and lays her hand on Dean’s forehead while gripping the round crystal sphere in her other hand more firmly.

Sam can see all the tension bleed out of Dean’s body as he sinks deeper into the couch cushions and his eyes flutter a few times before they close slowly and completely. A deep sigh escapes his brother.

Sam wishes he could relax alongside Dean, but almost in counter point his own tension revs up and his stomach feels like it’s filled with a swarm of locust as he fixes his eyes on Kappi and waits. Waits for help, waits for insight, waits for affirmation. Waits to learn how to make his brother feel better. Waits for a chance to start the rest of their lives…together…united.

 _‘Or am I kidding myself here?_ Is this all too much to hope for? What if she can’t figure it out? What if Dean finds a way to block her? What if I am setting us up for failure.’

The silence in the room stretches and starts to weigh more and more heavily on Sam raising the doubts and apprehension another notch.

 _‘Man, it didn't take Kappi this long last time, did it? What’s wrong?’_  

His attention is captured by a low hum from the healer’s direction.

“Hhhmmm, oh, Sam, Hon,” Kappi shakes her head sadly. “What are you doing?”

Sam’s heart skips several beats and the big fist of doom he’d been waiting for all along crushes into his gut.

“What?” he croaks desperately trying to breathe through what feels like a constricted windpipe.

_He knew it….didn’t he know it…all along? He must’ve fucked this up somehow, broke something in Dean. Pushed too hard… should’ve never let….this….they shouldn’t’ve…..CHRIST._

_“_ You two are going to be the _end_ of me. Really!” Kappi says in an admonishing tone. “I thought I was pretty clear about your paths and that you needed to be on it together, wasn’t I?”

When no reply comes, she opens her eyes and sees that Sam has gone as white as a sheet and he’s struggling for air.

“Sam?” Kappi asks in alarm. “What’s wrong, honey? Are you feeling ill?”

He still isn’t answering her immediately, trapped in his own mind and spinning thoughts. Kappi turns to the other Winchester and gently says, “Dean, please excuse me for a moment, I will be right back.” 

Then she lets go of Dean and takes both of Sam’s hands in hers to force his attention back to her.

“Sam, I need you to talk to me, please.” Her tone is firm, but kind.

“I…..I’m….you just said….” He forces out between gulps of air. “Did I…..what did I….?”

“No no no, Sam, that’s not what I mean.” She shakes him by the hands and makes him look at her. “Let me finish and _listen_ to me, ok? It will all become clearer in a minute. I can’t break the connection with Dean for too long, or we’ll need to start all over again and I gather _that_ wouldn’t go so well a second time.”

Sam still feels slightly nauseous and breathless, but he stares straight into her caring eyes and nods, trying to concentrate hard on what she is saying next.

The healer sighs deeply and settles back into her previous position, one hand on Dean’s forehead and the other around the crystal, as she closes her eyes once more.

“Ok, where were we?” a moment’s silence ensues, then, “Oh, yes, thank you, Dean.” A little smile tugs on the corner of her mouth. “Your brother is quite the charmer, I see.”

Sam inwardly rolls his eyes at that, still fighting to get his racing heart back under control and his breath to quiet. _Only Dean would flirt in a hypnotized or whatever state!_ But he feels himself relax more at the knowledge that Dean is obviously not hiding or in pain or rejecting the help. _But wait…what?_

“You can _talk_ to him, this time?” Sam is stunned.

“Sort of. It’s different now that he’s awake. It’s more of an exchange than before, when I could only do a reading, but it’s not like a full blown conversation. I can only absorb what he gives me and give him suggestive nudges in return. We don’t share a deep enough connection that I could actually speak to him.”

“But you just did.” Confusion tints Sam’s voice.

Kappi laughs quietly. “No, not really, I talk _at_ him….it’s more for my own benefit. He waited for me and gave me a compliment – at least I hope it was a compliment – that’s all. Now let’s continue, shall we?”

“Yeah, of course, sorry.”  Sam sits forward in his chair and keeps quiet, aware that they don’t have all day before this connection exhausts Kappi.

“It’s pretty dark here, seems like an old forest, lots of shadows, dense shrubs, but…..there is a clear path or trail through the woods leading to a clearing.  I can see _you_ , Sam, you are….very bright….and there is…..a woman and a child….they are close by, put there is…..it’s like there is a veil or milky glass between you two and them. I cannot see them very clearly. Does that make sense?”

“The woman and child, yes. I am not sure about the veil?” Sam answers quietly.

“Dean feels strongly about these two. There is a lot of protectiveness and affection there, some of it….older and some of it new, but also worry and…..not guilt exactly….more like…..doubt? Wait…..it seems like he is unsure that he _should_ feel that….affection. That he’s not…..worthy, maybe? Yes, Dean, I know you wouldn’t use these words….and that’s kinda the problem isn’t it?” Kappi chides and Sam has to smile a little, falling back into imagining Dean’s grousing at the entire proceedings.

After a moment of silence, Kappi goes on. “That….veil or glass….that’s _his_ doing…..creating a barrier….but it’s not clear to me, why. He feels like he is…..protecting….someone but…..to me it seems like a false security parameter. He is actively trying to keep them on a parallel path to yours…thinking that will allow him control of the situation.” 

“Why? They want us in their lives. Why would he push that away?” Sam sounds confused.

“I cannot answer that, Sam. It seems Dean can’t either, which is why it’s troubling him so much.” Kappi’s tone is matter of fact.

“Do you think….maybe they don’t….. _fit_ ….with us?” Sam is trying to remember as much from their last conversation as he can.

_Jeeezum, these boys are not making it any easier on themselves, are they? They finally found each other and really connected, didn’t give that hardly any time to settle and work itself out, now they are adding family to the mix. No wonder it’s a bit much for Dean. Heck, it’s a bit much for Sam, too. But at least Sam gets the ‘us’ part now._

“Their energy signatures seem pretty in sync with the two of you, but don’t forget, I am seeing this _through_ Dean. So this could be _his_ version of the truth. But no matter, the feelings he has towards them are real and strong.” Kappi explains.

“Where am I in this picture?” Sam’s voice is small and worried. “Am I standing….in the…way? Am I keeping him from them?”

Kappi sighs inwardly. _Obviously her hopes for Sam’s understanding had been overly optimistic._

“No, you are directly ahead and squarely _on_ Dean’s path where you need to be, just….quite a distance ahead. He can’t see you in detail, but your aura is really bright to Dean and he is drawn to you….to follow after you….it’s like a natural force…..like the tides. He on the other hand is standing _beside_ his trail.” 

“What does _that_ mean?”

“Just what I said. He sees where he is supposed to go, but something is still holding him back to take that last step and move on. Could be the woman and child.”

“So he is choosing to stay there, but won’t let himself get too close to them and he is letting me walk on….ahead or…away?” Sam is trying hard to keep all of the clues together and make sense of them. 

“He’s definitely torn…but not in an either/or way. He clearly _wants_ to be there for everyone….and keep any of you from…..disappearing….or from harm?”  Regret is thick in her voice as she can clearly feel Dean’s fear and insecurity and his immense stubbornness in regard to keeping these feelings locked up.

“Still?” Sam sounds defeated. “I….really….I’d hoped we’d gotten….past that by now. I’m _told_ him several times I’m _not_ going anywhere….unless he tells me to.”

 _‘As if he could.’_ Kappi thinks. ‘ _Their energies are so intertwined by now, they may as well be one unit. They won’t ever be able to completely separate from each other. Will always find each other. But I’ll need to find a way to explain that to both of them after the session.’_

“It’s a really good sign that he sees you on his road and that you are such a shiny beacon to him, Sam. The rest just takes time. What’s that, Dean?”

She stills for a moment and Sam doesn’t dare interrupt or move.

“Sorry, Sam, new images and impressions….” Her voice is suddenly strained like she is in pain or pushing against a huge weight.

“Are you ok?” Sam asks worried for her strength.

“Yes, it’s just….a lot of emotions flooding through him, now that we’re getting closer to the truth....gimme a moment.”

The barrage of images rushing out of the dark shadows of Dean’s mind and crashing over her is almost too much. Horrible pictures of Sam and the woman and child suffering, hurting, dying, calling out for help, for Dean, then slamming doors, barricades, barred windows, insurmountable walls, long hallways or tunnels stretching and morphing into ever farther distances, splitting and winding and twisting, leaving no clear path. And accompanying all that is a feeling of such overwhelming dread and powerlessness, it nearly drives her to tears.

_These must be the nightmares and subconscious fears Dean can’t shake. No wonder, he’s not eager to share them and still pigheadedly trudge on alone, letting no one help….a lesser man would have broken long ago….or run._

She takes a few deep, cleansing breaths concentrating on channeling more positive images and reassuring thoughts into Dean’s mind, before she continues to speak.

“It feels like Dean has trouble deciding if he needs to be catching up with you or connecting with the woman and child first. He wants….both….but feels he’s not…..-it’s hard to describe that vibe - not _enough_ , maybe, for either.”

She smiles suddenly and her voice is filled with humor. “I think we are getting to the core of it now and Dean knows it…..doesn’t want me to look to closely, he is pulling back a little….and he is getting quite innovative with his cussing. I guess, I have to take back the charmer comment.”

“Sorry….he’s…..not good with…..you know….”

“Emotional overload? I completely sympathize with that. You boys are taking on _a lot_ here. It seems to me that Dean was always the ‘suffer in silence’ type? Never asks for help?”

“Uuhm, that’s about right.” Sam admits feeling slightly ashamed for exposing Dean’s innermost fears to Kappi this way.

“Well, but you did come to me for help _now_ ….so let me…..try.” Kappi says in a quiet coaxing tone and Sam realizes that she is addressing Dean again.

It is completely silent in the room for several minutes before she continues to speak.

“OK, I understand now. It’s ok, Dean. But you _have_ to let that go, hon. Building road blocks for yourself is not helping.”

“What?” Sam asks in a hushed whisper.

“Dean is terrified to fall short for either of you. He worries there’s going to be a day when he being with one will put the others at risk and he’s running like he’s on a hamster on a wheel, never able to actually get anywhere in time to help. His solution seems to be to play the observer, keep watch over all of you from a slight distance or through the looking glass to be able to jump quickly enough when he’s needed.”

Sam huffs out a frustrated breath. “But that’s not really anything _new!”_ He exclaims exasperated. “Dean’s _always_ carried the weight of the world on his shoulders, made himself responsible for _everyone_ around him.”

“True,” Kappi states in a calming tone. “I can clearly feel that this is one of Dean’s ingrained behaviors.”

“So why it that causing him these terrible nightmares _now_?”

“Because although Dean didn’t change in that respect, your connection with each other has.”

“I don’t understand.” Sam can feel the anger and frustration rise to the surface of his tightly controlled emotions.  ‘ _Goddammit, will I EVER count as a full adult to Dean? A true partner? A brother who can carry his own weight and responsibility? Share the hard bits equally? I’m SO sick and tired of watching Dean cut himself off from his own happiness, because he is putting everything and everyone else first.’_

“I will explain it to you _both_ after we wake Dean up.”  She opens her eyes and looks at Sam with kind understanding in her eyes.

“Sam, I think we went as far as I can with this. I definitely have a clear picture of the issue. I am not sure _I_ will be able to get _your_ feelings into his thick skull. And you are saying that you _telling_ him didn’t do the trick? But we need him to dismantle this barrier he is building between himself and everyone else in an attempt to keep them safe, or you will never travel all on the same road.” Kappi’s tone is serious and Sam looks up at her, disappointment edged in his features, and at a loss for words.

_Was this it? Had Dean been right? Did he need to learn to live with the nightmares and sadness?_

“Would you be willing to try something else?”

It takes Sam a moment to comprehend the words from the healer and he blinks at her slowly.

“What else _is_ there to try?”

 _Maybe this wasn’t the end of the road after all?_ A glimmer of hope reignites in his chest.

“Remember when you were here last and you touched Dean while I was reading him? That….connection…..springing up when he tried to reach out to you?”

Sam nods eagerly recollecting the electric shock Dean’s reaching out to him had caused.

“Basically that was just a communication between the two of you. An energy transfer where words were unavailable. You saw pictures that time, correct?”

“Yes, it’s how I made the connection to where he was. But how can that work now?”

“Well, it’s not going to be exactly the same, but your bond is so….unique….and definitely stronger that last time, that I _might_ be able to take you _in_ with me.”

“Into Dean’s _mind???”_ Sam’s eyes go wide with equal parts hope and horror.

“It’s _not_ foolproof, Sam, and I can’t guarantee it’ll work or actually _accomplish_ anything. And it’s no joy ride either, leaves you in a bit of a mess after…..but I bet you can push info back to Dean through that link you guys share. Pictures, feelings, sounds, whatever you can conjure up.”

“What do you want me to say to him….or….show him?”

“That’s really up to you, Sam. I just know that you love your brother and have told him that you will always be there with words, correct? Maybe it’s time to project that in another way….make him _listen_ on a different level?”

“Yeah?” Sam draws out the word uncertainly.

“I need you to focus on all of these feelings - your love, your loyalty, your commitment, your desire to be there for him – _all_ of it – and push them towards him, when I link you.” 

Kappi studies his serious face carefully for a moment, intent on making him fully understand the possible risks.

“Remember to stay _positive._ He is still in a pretty dark place and unsure about how to proceed. Don’t let him push you away or drag you into his gloom. You already _are_ the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel for him, so you just need to get through to him that you are there to stay. And that you want to share his self-proclaimed responsibility more equally.”

Sam nods his understanding tightly.

“Now don’t stay too long, you hear? It’s going to be intense for you and the longer you stay, the tougher the return. I’m taking you along for a tandem jump here, but this is not something I would normally do.”

“I want to do it, if it can help.” Sam’s voice doesn’t betray any doubt.

“I think it will. More importantly, I am not sure anything _else_ will do the trick for Dean. But I am warning you, it’s not like in the movies. Combining your energies and sharing thoughts and emotions on that basic level is extremely powerful. It can leave a permanent imprint on both of you. But I have the strong impression that you two are so connected already that it won’t pose a threat or danger to you.”

The younger Winchester is pushing hard against the flicker of unease at the thought of what Dean would have to say about this.

_‘I know exactly what….he’d **hate** the idea. He’s gonna be fucking furious with me after. This could totally fuck things up between us…. But Kappi said we can’t go anywhere in his mind he doesn’t want us to go, right? And if this helps him to break the wall or veil or whatever….if it helps him to move on….out of the nightmares…..even if….if it is without me….. Well, it’s not more or less than I expected a few days ago, when I thought he’d move on with Lisa anyway. I just want him happy….for once....I gotta try this….… I can manage whatever else….later.’_

“I understand and accept the risk,” Sam finally says solemnly and looks straight at Kappi.

“Good. Then come sit next to Dean on the couch and place your left hand against the side of Dean’s face and neck and close your right hand over the crystal in my hand, so we are both touching it and touching hands at the same time,” Kappi instructs and Sam complies without hesitation and settles in next to Dean.

“Now close your eyes.” Kappi’s voice is quiet and soothing.

He does and for a moment nothing at all happens. Sam starts to wonder if something’s wrong or the sparking connection he had with Dean when they had been at Kappi’s last was a fluke when he suddenly feels a sinking sensation in his head, like falling rapidly from a great height.

He draws in a sharp breath as he enters Dean’s mind.

There are dark purple hues on the edges of his vision as he looks around to orient himself and he feels physically constricted like he is bound in some way. He understands quickly that there is no way for him to maneuver or leave his current position in Dean’s mind. He is allowed in only as co-pilot to Kappi, who had been invited in. Another wave of dismay strikes Sam as he realizes how violating this is to his brother, but Kappi’s steadying presence alongside him and the strong feeling of purpose and goodwill towards them both emanating from her resets his focus quickly.

_He is here on a mission - to convince Dean that this – them – is permanent. That he won't go anywhere and that Dean doesn’t have to choose or carry all the weight on his own. That they are a team in even more ways than they have been in the past. OR, if not that, then at least that he will be there for Dean in whatever capacity his brother will allow him. That all Dean needs to do is to let it happen. This is the last resort. He has to get past Dean’s defenses. Make this work. Otherwise….nope….not crawling down that sewage tunnel._

As Sam concentrates on this new environment, he notices the profound and eerie silence surrounding him like he has gone deaf. But he _can_ see the place Kappi described - a darkly ominous wood, a well-tread earthen path, the sun-dappled clearing where Dean stands next to the trail and the milky substance building a semi-opaque wall between him, Lisa and Ben. He finds himself standing on the hill that Kappi described to him from her vision looking down onto the scene. He can _feel_ more than see other things lurking in the shadows as he concentrates even harder and seems to become more solid in this realm of Dean’s imagination. There is fleeting movement at the edges and in the dark spaces sending little jolts of disquiet through Sam, but he can’t catch sight of anything properly. Most of all, though, he can feel an almost suffocating sense of impending doom hanging in the air as if it’s heavy with moisture after a summer storm.

He shudders like he’s trying to shake off the weighty sadness but almost immediately notices a new sensation - a steadily building pressure against his entire being, pushing, probing, testing – this must be Dean’s consciousness becoming aware of him.

Sam pushes back softly – a silent plea to let him stay – and he can tell that there is a slight yielding from Dean. He suddenly detects underneath all the leaden indecision and sense of imminent disaster in Dean a vast reservoir of other emotions swirling and ebbing like an underground river – determination, compassion and an almost vicious desire to break free from his current state of mind are the most prominent and overwhelm Sam’s senses for a moment. 

Another spike of foreboding jars him out of the current of Dean’s feelings and the urge to leave his brother’s privacy intact is making his skin crawl, but Kappi’s solid support at his side and her intent for him to stand his ground and keep to the plan helps him to regain his focus.

Dean’s entire being is becoming agitated now, shoving against Sam’s intrusion with more force and Sam has to fight hard to keep a hold on this reality, the dark edges threatening to close in on him all the while. He is trying to project his commitment and resolve to be here to Dean as he struggles to stay calm and confident in his course of action.

Deeply disturbing images are starting to flit by on the very border between this vision and the darkness beyond, luring Sam’s attention away. Every terrible thing that has ever happened to him and Ben and Lisa and a variety of pictures that are clearly imagined rattle past in distorted black and white flashes like an old silent movie. Sam can clearly tell by the way the atmosphere surrounding him turns almost hostile that this is something Dean is trying to hide, not push out into the open, and he realizes with a start that _these_ must be Dean’s nightmares – him and Ben and Lisa hurt, mangled, dying and always just out of reach.

He averts his eyes from the gruesome pictures with effort and looks back at Dean only to be struck by the expression of pure misery and raw hurt on his brother’s face. His jaw is clenched, nostrils flared, his whole posture tense and curled in on itself and his eyes are tight as if he is fighting tremendous pain. Sam’s heart trips in his chest to see his big brother looking so lost, so tired and spent and still so stubbornly determined to keep fighting this on his own.

_‘This has to **stop**. Don’t you **see** me? I am right the fuck here! You are not alone!’ _

And Sam closes his eyes, gathers himself and pulls every positive emotion he feels for his brother together to _show_ Dean the truth he won’t _listen to_. The sensation is filling Sam more and more, hot and powerful and joyous until it feels like he is going to explode from the sheer quantity of it.

Dean can suddenly see the light that represents Sam to him stop ahead on the trail and slowly turn back around, staring at him. (‘ _Well, that’s new…’)_ His brother’s features and form are vague and wavering, almost like they are cycling through different versions – Sam at five with his earnest face and skinny body; Sam at ten with the bangs hanging in his eyes which are constantly full of questions; Sam at 16 all lanky-limbed and bitch-faced with perpetual anger; Sam now – gorgeous, tall, strong and smiling.

Abruptly the _now-_ version turns crystal clear as the light recedes slightly and leaves Dean with an unobstructed view of his stunning brother standing like a giant redwood tree on the top of the hill. Sam’s smile gets even wider, dimples deepening and eyes shining, and he spreads his arms wide and then pushes them forward.

Dean feels his brow crease for a moment (‘ _What’s that? Think you’re fucking Jesus now?’)_ but then his eyes go wide with wonder and his jaw drops open as the light surrounding Sam flares impossibly bright and, seemingly following his brother’s command, rushes down the hill at Dean. It ripples through the air like a mirage, lights up the landscape as it passes, banishes the horrific images skirting along the edges and melts the hazy wall concealing Lisa and Ben in its wake like it is made of smoke. Dean sees a glimpse of Lisa’s brilliantly smiling face and Ben’s fist pump into the air before they, too, vanish.

The light crashes into him like a wave breaking against a rocky cliff, spreading out, disbursing its power and he can feel it envelop him completely, threatening to drown him, before it seeps into him like water into thirsty ground.

Dean gasps in a harsh breath when the storm of raw and powerful emotions that is Sam’s essence assaults every one of his senses. He can feel every bit of Sam’s core being infusing every corner of his own consciousness: mountainous strength of body and spirit; bone-deep loyalty and trust; steadfast determination and love so warm, so bright and life-giving it’s like the sun itself.

Dean feels all of his dark, hollow spaces being filled up to the brim by what Sam is pouring into him and an understanding so profound it shakes Dean to his very center finally settles into every fiber of his being and anchors him in the most basic of ways: _all_ of this…. _all of Sam_ ….is there for _him._

It’s always been there, forged in the fire that marked their mother’s death and strengthened into an unbreakable bond with every passing year and every trial and tribulation.

Sam is like an oasis in the desert where he can stop and rest and replenish his own strength when he needs it; Sam is like a deep well he can count on to keep him alive during even the most dire of droughts; Sam is like a nuclear source of never-ending supportive energy that is freely given.

 _‘And if these metaphors get any more colorful and hokey, just kill me now. Must be Sam….’_ Flashes through Dean’s mind and he can feel a pulse of amusement push back at him.

Fact is, though, that he finally gets it.

_He doesn’t have to carry **all** the weight by himself and he doesn’t have to choose between the people in his life. Sam is there, will be there, wants to be there – and that’s all that counts. Sam loves and accepts Lisa and Ben the same way he accepts Dean, whole-heartedly, unquestioningly.  What they have is making them stronger together, not each of them more vulnerable. Sammy’s all grown up, can take care of himself **and** others….him….if needed. And most of all, Sam has the right to share in the burden and the decisions that make up their life’s journey….together. He just has to remember that and find a way to….let him.  _

What feels like a deep sigh releases in the space of Dean’s mind and the Winchesters feel something retreat. (‘ _Must be Kappi’)_ To his surprise, Dean can suddenly _hear_ Sam’s voice as his brother appears right by his side standing firmly on the path through the now warmly lit woods.

“Do you _finally_ understand, dumbass?” Sam smirks but his eyes are brimming with unshed tears of pure relief. “You’re not gonna lose me.” 

Dean rubs a hand roughly down his face and feels himself tremble with the overload of sensations and emotions of the last moments.

“I _did_ lose you, Sam, and I couldn’t do anything, and I couldn’t go on, and what good am I if I can’t protect you.”

“But that’s the whole point, man. You don’t _have_ to…protect me. Not all the time. We got each _other’s_ back. It's not _all_ on you.”

“Yeah, guess I’ve been pretty pig-headed about it, huh?” He asks in an unsteady voice and feels his throat close up.

“You can say _that_ again.” Sam lets out a half-laugh, half-sob. “I just want to _help,_ man! Carry my own weight….ya know. Maybe some of yours, sometimes. Gimme me the chance….ok?”

Dean can only nod, feeling both stupid for his blind, self-inflicted pain over the past weeks and thankful that Sam has the same Winchester-typical stubborn streak that won’t let him give up and roll over in the face of steep odds.

“It’s us against the world…don’t you remember?” Sam continues and tears are now streaking down his still smiling face. “ _That_ has never changed….will never change. We don’t have to talk about it….it’s just…fact.”

Again Dean can only nod, not trusting his voice and leaning hard against the mental flood gate that is keeping his emotions in tight check.

 _‘God, yeah, I’d appreciate that….I think I talked enough about fucking feelings in the last two weeks to last me two life times….And if we don’t stop soon, somethin’s gonna break loose here,’_ He thinks desperately.

“Uuuhm, Dean, you know we’re in _your_ head, right? I can pretty much feel what you’re thinking.”

‘ _Shit!’_

Sam flashes him some teeth, but then sobers up.

“Listen, I mean it, alright? We don’t have to bring _any_ of this up again, ok? I give you the emo-free jail break card on it.” Sam continues with a warm chuckle and wipes the wetness off his face with his sleeve. “I’m done repeating myself. As long as you….. _believe_ me…now?”

“Yeah….I do.” Dean croaks. “Kinda hard to argue…..this.” He gestures around a little helplessly and at a loss to understand how all of this is possible, but not doubting the absolute truth and validity of what is happening.

_He is not imagining this. Kappi **was** here. Sam **is** here. In his head. Communicating. Which is freaky, but what the hell…they’re experts in freaky. And that wall of intensity Sam slammed into him earlier was undeniably his brother and completely heartfelt. Sam would not leave him or hurt him knowingly….ever….as long as Dean gives him space to be himself and grow. That is the simple truth and something he can understand as it mirrors his feelings exactly. Of course, it won’t be fucking unicorns and cute puppies from here on out…when is it ever….but they have a basis for something awesome, if Dean chills and lets it happen…._

“ _Exactly”_ Sam’s voice is elated as he answers his brother’s thoughts.

Suddenly Dean feels a pull on his senses, a subtle vibration in the ground and a shiver through the fabric of his mind. They can’t stay here. He looks up at Sam quickly and is met by his familiar sharp, intelligent gaze that seems to drill straight to his soul.

“Do you _believe_ me, Dean?” Sam asks in a quiet, steady tone.

“Yes.” Comes Dean’s immediate unthinking reply.

“Then come on. It’s time. Let’s go.” Sam holds his hand out and Dean takes it without hesitation and lets Sam pull him onto the path next to him.

A monumental wave of pure joy and earth-deep surety floods them both as their fingers intertwine and they are pulled up and out of Dean’s mind on a surge of precious, rare, positive images and memories spanning two lifetimes together.

 


	14. PROMISE

Dean jolts awake, shaking like he’s coming down from an adrenaline high, scrabbling to sit up, heart pounding in his chest. At the same time, Sam bolts upright in his seat, gasping a huge gulp of air as if emerging from a deepwater dive and leans forward with his elbows on his knees panting harshly.

Kappi sits on the bench with a hand on each of their forearms to anchor them back to this reality and help them get oriented.

“It's going to be ok, boys. Just take some time to come back slowly. No rush.” Her voice is calm and soothing as she keeps a firm grip on each of them. “This ride can be pretty disorienting, especially the first time around. So take it easy for a while. Just rest. Don’t force anything.”

Dean looks at her bleary-eyed and shakes his head a couple of times to bring her kind face into better focus. She smiles at him encouragingly.

“That’s right. There you are, Hon. How are you feeling?”

“Fine. I’m….really….I’m okay.” Dean assures her, but shakes his head again trying to clear the cobwebs clouding his senses. 

“That’s good.” Kappi sees Dean’s gaze shift to his brother, who doesn’t seem to be coping as well with their abrupt return.

“Sammy?” His tone is sharp with concern as he sits up fully and grabs Sam’s shoulders. “Talk to me, man.” But Sam is still too winded and unable to catch his breath properly to answer; instead he just waves one hand in a vaguely dismissive gesture.

“What’s wrong with him?” Dean’s eyes are wild as he looks back at Kappi. “Can you help him?”

“Nothing serious, Dean, don’t worry. He’s probably a little nauseous and a lot emotional at the moment, and there could be a pretty nasty headache in his immediate future, but it’s nothing some rest and a stiff drink can’t cure.” Kappi sits down behind Sam on the couch and starts to rub small circles on his back while she looks seriously over his shoulder at Dean. “Diving into someone else’s mind is intense for the outsider. You feel like you’re losing a part of yourself on the way, but you gain an entire universe of new possibilities through the other. Next thing you know, you’re shoved back into your own mind and it can leave you feeling pretty rattled and whiplashed, if you’re not trained to do it properly. But he’s strong…..he just needs to work through it…. give him a few moments.” 

Dean tries to gather confidence from her explanation but can’t shake the crappy feeling that he forced Sam to take this last step to get him back due to his own idiocy. His stubborn refusal to ask for help earlier has yet again driven Sam to extreme measures ( _Totally getting_ _mind-fucked….Jesus!)._ Dean is scared to even contemplate the aftermath of this latest show of Sam’s steadfast conviction that _any_ means are acceptable to save his brother, no matter the consequence to himself. ( _Fuck)_

It doesn’t surprise Dean that he can’t find any anger or resentment in his heart for Sam’s actions, understanding now with crystal clarity that he probably wouldn’t have been able to untangle the mess in his head on his own. He can even admit to himself ( _Rather bite my own tongue off before saying it out loud_ ) that he might have eventually walked away for a while, in order to find a measure of peace by trying to give Sam some happiness. What _does_ surprise Dean is the realization that _this_ action would have caused the exact opposite result. He finally sees how time and time again they manage to _hurt_ each other when all they are trying to do is make the other _happy;_ putting the other’s needs ahead of their own and completely failing to see the fact that it is the exact _opposite_ that would achieve the goal.

( _Whoa, Sam must have left some of his smarts behind in my brain to make me get all that….)_   

He grips his brother’s shoulders more firmly in an effort to make him understand that it’ll be ok.

Sam rakes his hands through his hair and then leaves his head leaning on them while he stares at the floor. Dean is reassured to see that his brother’s breathing has slowed but then immediately worries again as he can feel slight tremors and little jerks under his palms replacing the panting from before.

“Sam?” He asks again more urgently now. “Come on, dude. Look at me.” The shaking under his hands only gets worse, but Sam finally straightens up and lifts his eyes to Dean. To his shock he sees tears streaming down his brother’s face once more as he clearly fights for control over his expression.

“’M….s-sorry, D-Dean.” Sam’s chin is quivering, his lips pressed into a thin line and his forehead scrunched up with the effort to suppress his crying. Dean is so strongly reminded of his little brother from years ago, looking for affirmation for a myriad of reasons that his instincts take over and he pulls Sam into a bone-crushing hug.

“C’mere” he rumbles gruffly as he grabs the back of Sam’s neck and wraps the other arm tightly around his shoulders, pulling him in close.

Sam can feel something finally crack and break open in his chest that has nothing to do with his brother’s vice-like embrace and everything to do with the weeks of bottled up emotion and worry that he hasn’t allowed to let surface. Try as he might he is unable to put the cork back in and stick another length of duct tape over the new break in the facade. The strain of Dean’s slow recovery, the intense experiences since he came back, and the crazy rollercoaster ride through Dean’s mind from a moment finally flay him open and leave him raw and exposed. Big wracking sobs wrench free from his core as he ducks his head into the crook of Dean’s neck and holds on for dear life. 

Kappi gets up quietly from the couch and smiles understandingly at Dean. “I’ll give you two a minute and go see about that drink.”

He nods his appreciation with a tight expression and then closes his eyes as she exits the room.

“Hey, we’re fine now….I get it….m’ not gonna be a fucking ass-hat anymore. ’S ok, Sammy.” Dean tries to sooth, but he hears how his own voice wobbles and breaks on the end of his brother’s name. Giving up on speech, he slides his hand deeper into Sam’s shaggy hair and grips him even tighter around the shoulders while a single tear rolls down his own cheek and catches on the corner of his mouth.

He licks it away impatiently, thoroughly over feeling sad or guilty all the time, and concentrates instead on his gratitude to Sam and the memory of how incredible it felt when he completely connected with him in his mind.

A little smile tugs at the corners of his mouth and his hand starts to card slowly through Sam’s hair trying to calm and reassure him.

After a while, when Sam’s sobs have quieted into hiccups and Dean doesn’t feel like he is the only thing keeping his brother from shaking apart by holding him as tightly as he can anymore, he murmurs quietly.

“Better?”

He feels Sam nod against his shoulder and hiccup again. Dean’s smile widens as he is once more reminded of their childhood and the many times Sammy crawled into his lap and hid his crying over a scraped knee or bumped head or a particularly long absence of their Dad against Dean’s shoulder, never wanting to seem weak or girly.

“Wanna lollipop?” Dean teases with his lips against Sam’s temple.

“Fuck you, Jerk,” Sam croaks and straightens up, drying the last of his tears with the heel of his hand and glaring at his brother.

“Maybe later, Bitch.” Dean shoots him a devilish grin and winks for good measure.

Sam just gives an impressive eye roll and then stares out the window for a moment. “Sorry….didn’t mean to….ya know.”

“Lose your shit and get my shirt all snotty?? Don’t worry, Sammy. Nothing your superior laundry skills can’t fix later.” Dean jokes, but Sam won’t look at him and doesn’t rise to the bait.

Dean sighs a moment later and says in a softer tone. “Hey, listen, you promised me a get out of emo-jail free card….and I am taking you up on that right after….this.” He lays one hand against Sam’s flushed face and thumbs softly across a sharp cheekbone it to get his attention. As soon as Sam looks up at him with slightly puffy eyes Dean says in a deadly serious tone. “ _Thanks_ for coming to get me. _Sorry_ that it had to get….this bad first. _Yes,_ I believe you. ‘K?”

Sam exhales long and slow as if he had held his breath for years and then his face finally lights up with the beginnings of one of Dean’s favorite smiles as he answers in a hoarse whisper. “Yeah, ok.”

Dean nods and smiles back. “And, _please,_ come and kick me in the ass, if I ever let something like this drag on for as long as I have.”

“Oh, no problem there, man. I ain’t going down that road again anytime soon.” Sam exclaims with a huff of rough laughter and a final rub at his face.

“Can I come in?” comes Kappi’s warm voice from the direction of the kitchen hallway.

“Of course, Kappi.” Sam calls as he and Dean quickly scoot apart on the couch and assume more casual positions next to each other. “It’s your house. I’m sorry, that…”

“Uh Uh Uh, Sam, no excuses and no apologies necessary. Don’t go there. _No one_ can control the effects of  a…..oh heck, fine….a _mind meld….”_ She laughs as she bustles into the room. “There is no reason to feel bad about any of it. Nor is there any reason for you two to get all uncomfortable now. Please, be completely yourself with me.”

Sam and Dean exchange a quick, surprised glance, but stop their surreptitious sliding apart. Both hugely relieved and slightly suspicious that Kappi doesn’t seem in the slightest bit worried about their connection they tentatively settle into a more comforting position, shoulders and knees touching.

Kappi in the meanwhile brings in a tray with three tumblers on it and quickly adds a crystal decanter from the sideboard before she sets the entire assembly onto the coffee table and takes a seat in one of the armchairs. She pours them each a good measure of amber liquid and hands two glasses to the Winchesters with a warm smile before picking up her own.

“As I said,” She begins in an energetic voice, “Nothing a bit of rest and a stiff drink can’t fix. Let’s start with the drink portion of that.” She raises her glass.

“To the two of you. May you find it easier to move on now, keep a more equal balance and allow yourself and the other take the road you are supposed to be on.” Kappi speaks in a firm and thoughtful tone lending gravitas to her wish and blessing.

The Winchester brothers look at her quietly and then at each other and nod.

“Yeah, that about sums it up, I’d say.” Dean’s smile is genuine and warm.

“Thanks, Kappi, that’s the plan.” Sam agrees and his face conveys all of the gratitude he can’t quite put into words.

They clink glasses and each take a deep sip.

“Wow.” Dean exclaims appreciatively, eyes going wide as he stares into the glass. “That is….”

Kappi laughs. “…from the good stash.”

“I’d say so….thanks, but you didn’t have to waste your Christmas Special on us. We’re used to the rougher stuff.”

“Well, that may be so, but let’s just say you’re worth it to me.” Kappi smiles again and it seems to make her soul shine out from her deep blue eyes.

Dean cocks his head a little to the side in surprise. “Thanks?”

Sam’s voice is still a little rough. “We really appreciate the help, Kappi.”

“And you are very welcome, but don’t think your work is done, boys.” She answers in a serious tone.

“What, there is homework now? No one said anything about homework,” Dean complains in mock horror.

“I mean it, Dean.” Kappi looks at him seriously. “You still have a long way to go before this works perfectly.”

“ ‘Til what works?” Sam’s tone it slightly suspicious.

“Your relationship, your balance, your cooperation, your complicated family life, your energy flow…take your pick or choose all of the above. You didn't get to this state of affairs by accident. From what I can tell, there are a lot of moving parts that make up your life together and if you don't actively take care of them, you’ll get yourself just as stuck the next time a crisis sneaks up on you.” The healer keeps her tone neutral.

Dean feels the urgent need to get out of this conversation. ‘ _It’s all fine and dandy when they are picking these things out of my brain directly, but **talking** about it sucks_. _Wish Sam could still read my mind…_ ’

“Can you give us some pointers?” Sam asks and Dean is relieved to see that his little brother is fully back to himself and in research mode now. (GO Sammy, _learn and analyze. Love this the little nerd.)_

"I can try, but first, Dean, what did you gather from the three-way communication we just shared?” Both Sam and Kappi shift their attention to Dean and he fights hard against the instinct to squirm like an unprepared student under a sudden scrutiny in class. 

Instead he forces himself to take a deep breath and really think about his answer.

“I guess…I finally get that….I don’t have to try to keep such a tight grip on _every_ thing _all_ the time. It’s not just me…out there…keeping things in check.  And I don’t have to….choose just one thing or the other. I can count on….some help.” 

“Hmhm.” Kappi hums encouragingly.

Dean shoots an appraising look in her direction, but tries to keep his mind clear and not feel like this is some kind of test, he’s afraid to fail.

“I gotta….you know….let Sam be…a man.” Now he glances at his brother who sits a little stiffly at the edge of his seat and stares back at him with a wary but hopeful expression. “I mean, I _know_ ….that he is a grown….man” Dean smiles crookedly at Sam _(‘freaking overgrown, but whatever.’_ ) “…and….he’s just as capable as I am….hunting…and stuff. Probably better.”

Sam flinches minutely at that and Dean continues quickly, before Sam can jump in.

“He is a kick ass fighter and way more into research than I ever was and he is….totally smart, you know.”

Dean’s hesitant but open praise raises another lump in Sam’s throat, but he swallows it down forcefully and sends a small, almost shy smile in his brother’s direction.

Kappi adds, “So, you see Sam’s value in your work partnership?”

Dean looks at her aghast as if she had insulted him. “Hell, yeah. Always!”

“Then…..why do you seem to have such a hard time accepting him….fully….by your side, as an equal, do you think?”

_Wait, what? Is that what he’s doing? Is he standing in Sam’s way? Well, yeah, maybe….a little. By assuming all the responsibility, all the time….he’s kinda freezing Sam out. Shit. And knows damned well, that he’s not exactly open to suggestions, when Sam’s safety is at risk….tends to overcompensate and start snapping orders – keeping Sam in line, in sight, preferably in some safe spot…. Well, FUCK._

Dean huffs out a frustrated breath.

“I don’t _mean_ to.” His voice is quiet and a little sad. Sam’s hand quickly reaches out and settles warm and heavy on his brother’s thigh. Dean looks up at his sibling’s trusting and open face.

“I don’t mean to, Sam. It’s just….I guess, it’s always been _my_ job to be….the _big_ brother….ya know? Take care of us….of _you_.”

Dean’s jaw flexes and his teeth clench as pieces of what has bothered him all along finally become clear to him.

 _‘My job….to protect you, be there for you, have all the answers, know what needs to be done. What am I if you no longer need that? If you….outgrew me?’_ Dean can’t find the courage to put this into words.

“And that will never change, Dean. You _are_ my big brother.” Sam’s voice is firm and full of absolute surety. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t….. _share_ ……responsibility…..and stuff.”  Sam’s gaze is so intent on Dean’s that the older brother can practically feel his thoughts pushing on his brain. 

_Share….Share…..equally….partners….share life, share family, share hunting…..fuck, Dean, you already know that I don’t want to do any of this; life; work; any of it without you._

Kappi can sense the brothers’ energy surge up and mingle with each other, still clashing slightly, not quite allowing the other to fill the empty spaces in each each other’s lives.

She clears her throat and asserts, “The way I read it, you both have pretty established roles in your life together. Habits and patterns that were formed a long time ago, through the way you grew up, learned about your calling, the way you were trained and have lived with it since. It all plays an important role in how you interact today.”

Kappi continues in a tone as sure as if she is stating her name and address.

“But those roles…these habits….don’t take into account that your overall situation has changed, and it is clear as day to me that your circumstances have…. _changed…_ recently, but _you_ haven’t adjusted to that – at least not yet.”

She lets that sink in for a moment as she observes the furtive glance passing between the brothers. Kappi has no intention of dicussing the details of this change in any way. She is simply glad for them both as it is so apparent that they discovered a long missing piece of their life’s puzzle. She can see the suspicious unease starting to build on their faces, but settles that notion with a warm chuckle and wave of her hand.

“Having read your energies, I can tell you that you are both on exactly the right path for yourself and would be _fine_ – no, more than fine, excellent, really – carrying on your own and doing exactly what you are doing best….saving people, hunting things, making the world a better and safer place for the rest of us.”

Dean can’t help the grin spreading over his face at the familiar words and he shoots a quick, cocky look at his brother who reflects the same expression back at him.

Kappi laughs softly.

“See? You _know_ this already!” 

“Well…we are pretty awesome at our job….it’s true.” Dean is still grinning confidently and it warms Kappi’s heart to see it.

Sam lets out a noise between a snort and a chuckle and shakes his head slightly, but doesn’t disagree.

“Now, looking at it more closely, I also notice that you each have clearly defined attributes that define you and your place in life – both in the hunting life and in your interaction with each other. Those….energy signatures are quite different from the other.”

Sam cocks his head somewhat alarmed.

“What do you mean, Kappi? Are we _not_ a good…team? Are we not supposed to be…..” ( _together?)_

Dean’s face falls as quickly as the grin had spread and Kappi hurries to explain.

“On the contrary. I believe that you are strongest and most powerful when you _are_ together, partially _because_ of these differences. It almost feels like you each hold one half of a whole, uuhm, like you are sharing just _one_ life force, one….soul…for lack of a better word….when you are…..in sync.”

“Soul mates.” Sam whispers in awe and his eyes to wide as he looks at Dean.  ( _There is was again)_

Dean shivers involuntarily as a wave of warmth rolls through him at the thought…the promise.

“I guess you can see it that way.” Kappi’s tone is cautious as she tries to steer away from what feels like relationship advice back to the essentials of life. “But it works in many different areas of your lives. Remember, Sam, how we talked about the different characteristics that make up a hunter and how your energy footprint would fit well with other jobs with similar markers?”

“Yeah, right, you mentioned soldier and teacher and shaman and cop, I recall.”

Sam has the air of a student repeating a lecture to his professor when he speaks and Dean can’t help it when another proud and slightly amused smile curves his lips. 

“Yes, that’s right. From the way your energies read to me I can clearly tell that you are _both_ warriors, are meant to be and are well-suited for it. But beyond that, Dean’s vibes are most strongly resonating as the caretaker, the protector, the guardian and Sam’s energy feels more deeply like the scholar, the wise man, the strategist.”

“Hey, that’s twice in one day that I’m being called _dumb muscle.”_ Dean snorts indignantly but is also fascinated to hear Kappi’s analysis of them, never having thought about their different talents in that context or in that much detail.

Kappi gives him a droll stare and exclaims. “I did _not_ mean that, Dean.”

He lifts his hands in supplication and chuckles. “Sorry, Sorry….just think it’s funny. Ok, so Sam’s the smart-ass and I’m the bruiser….got it.”

“ _Dean.”_ Sam’s exasperated plea cuts in.

“Fine, shutting up now.” Dean is still grinning, not at all bothered by it as Kappi’s explanation fills him with a renewed sense of purpose and ease.

“If you don’t mind?” Kappi shakes her head at Dean, but smiles as well.

“I think we’ve hit a sore spot right here.” She continues. “The way you see your roles in this relationship is too defined, too…..inflexible. Every time you don’t allow for a more organic ebb and flow of your energies, you unconsciously block the other’s and in the worst case scenario, you get stuck. That is especially true for you two, _because_ of the way your essences combine and flow when you are together. Just because you, Dean, have a higher reading on the protective vibe doesn’t mean that Sam _can’t_ do or _shouldn’t_ do part of sentry duty. Just because Sam is more grounded in the ‘ _brainy’_ waves doesn’t mean that he couldn’t use some help and support in that department.”

“So, you’re saying that by sticking to our guns….to what feels most comfortable or natural or….whatever….we’re cock-blocking the other from helping out?” Dean is leaning forward, elbows on knees, looking at Kappi intensely and trying to make sense of the unusual information.

Sam in the meantime lets out a pained groan at Dean’s trademark style of simplifying complex concepts into bar language, but Kappi just laughs and nods.

“Yes, pretty much. Gods, Dean, I could really use you here sometimes to explain my sessions to the clients. I love your way to look at things.”

Dean grins proudly at Sam, quite pleased to have gained some praise in the _brain department._

Sam can’t help but to smile back at his brother’s funny expression and the way his own heart keeps shedding weight and gaining altitude at his brother’s open-mindedness about this talk. 

When Kappi continues both Winchesters turn back to face her.

“Think of it this way: you need counterpoints for a partnership to work at its best possible harmony and efficiency. Passion and practicality; instinct and intelligence; curiosity and caution; love and logic; they are _all_ necessary to create a balance. Either one of you can cover either side of the equation, but if one of you takes on too much it throws the balance off and neither of you can function well. Does that make sense?”

Dean nods thoughtfully thinking back over numerous hunts and recognizing now how they seemed to have gone smoothest, were the most successful, and had the least amount of collateral damage, when he loosened his grip a little and let Sam work on more equal footing with him. Seeing more clearly than ever how much Sam could and did contribute….if he just let him.

‘ _Jesus, FUCK, how dense I’ve been. Gotta have a complete outsider smack me in the face with it….’_

“Now as if _that_ isn’t enough to puzzle out for you two and work on – by adding more people into the mix you completely reset the scale of the entire picture.” The healer continues. “The woman and child I’ve seen during the session….”

“Lisa and Ben.” Sam interjects, and Kappi looks at him with a grateful nod.

“Lisa and Ben, then. They add a whole new dimension to your universe. If you are looking to include them in your life on a permanent basis, you will _both_ have to make some adjustments to accommodate that.”

“They are not hunters.” Dean says in a firm, serious tone. “We don’t want to put them in the middle of that…..endanger them.”

Dean looks up at Sam questioningly.

“No we don’t. I agree.” Sam’s voice is thoughtful. “But they _know_ about the life. _Know_ what we deal with. So we can’t keep them ignorant or completely sheltered.”

Dean scowls at his hands as some of the gruesome images of Lisa and Ben hurt and dying rise in his mind’s eye, before they suddenly pale and wash-out like ghost impressions of a long ago incident, and finally dissipate into smoke and float away. 

“No, I guess not….but….I don’t want them…. _involved_.”  His eyes travel back to Sam’s, openly looking for support and unity on this point. Sam is momentarily stunned by this display of unabashed insecurity on Dean’s part that seems to be stemming from a desire to get his brother’s reassurance that they are in this together. Pride and relief at his brother’s expectation for a solution flood through Sam’s chest and he hurries to answer.

“I don’t either, Dean. But I’m sure we can figure that out somehow. Find a middle ground, make some arrangements.” They share a significant look with each other that Kappi can only interpret as love and gratefulness for the other’s existence as it is accompanied with an almost audible hum of content energy buzzing through the room.

She smiles to herself.  _‘Now we are getting somewhere.’_

Outwardly, though, she keeps a calm and compassionate tone.

“Now, Dean, from what you showed me when we were connected, I would say that _this_ is exactly the part of the problem that got you stuck in the first place. You were keeping Ben and Lisa close, but built a barrier between them and you two in order to protect them, I guess? Instead of involving them in your life, you were compartmentalizing each of them into manageable sections.”

Dean thinks about the imagery he saw during the connection with Kappi and Sam, how the veil had vanished between him and Sam and Lisa and Ben, when the ‘ _Sam wave’_ crashed into it – pure love pushing out all doubts, breaking down all barriers. 

Another powerful thought occurs to him as some themes from his nightmares try to reassert themselves. _He was always too weak or too late or too far away to be effectively helping anyone….. **because** he never even considered that they were able to help themselves, at least to some degree. Holy fucking shit…._

Dean almost slaps himself on the forehead as the simple truth reveals itself.

“So, _that_ ’s where the nightmares are coming from.” A statement, not a question. “I’m having them, ‘cause I’m trying to be too many things to too many people and don’t share the weight. My default MO to protect everyone, all the time, taking charge and running the show leaves nothing for the others to put into the mix. So in my dreams they become….victims, because I don’t giv’em enough credit.  And my brain is trying to kick me in the ass and show me that it’ll end badly if I don’t get with the program?”

Kappi suppresses a laugh and simply nods.

“That would be my guess, yes. You seem to have a tendency to ignore the freely-given help around you and stubbornly overload your cart, pulling it through the mud until you can’t take another step. Do you agree, Sam?”

Startled at being called into the conversation on this subject and trying desperately to find a positive angle to support Dean, Sam stutters.

“Uhm, I….he doesn’t always…we can…sometimes he lets….”

“Oh, _come on_ , Sam, you can say it.” Dean chides him with a sarcastic snort. “I’m a jackass and stubborn as an ox when I think I’m right. Always have been. Got it straight from dad, made it my own and ran with it.” 

“But, Dean….”

The older Winchester holds up a hand to keep his brother from continuing. He feels both immensely stupid for not having seen any of this creeping up on him from a mile away and strangely buoyant at the thought that he’s finally free from the stone tied to his ankle that had been dragging him under.

“No, Sam, it’s true. We both know it…. _but….”_ Dean looks up at his sibling and gives a knowing smile and a nod.

“…it doesn’t have to _continue_ like this.” Sam finishes his brother’s thought and smiles back.

"Bingo! Now that you both pushed my nose all into my own shit and woke me up….literally and metaphorically….we can make some changes.” Dean sobers up at that and looks straight into Sam’s expectant eyes.  “I…. _wanna…._ make some changes, Sammy. Give it a fresh start.” 

“Promise?” Sam asks with a tiny quirk to the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah…. _yes,_ _promise.”_

Dean’s eyes go soft as he marvels at how his Sasquatch of a ‘little’ brother is able to remind him so easily of their childhood. He thinks about all the times Sam asked exactly that and then took his older brother at his word when he answered in turn - complete trust, no doubt. Having Sam evoke that specific memory just now, underscoring his earlier statement that Dean would never _stop_ being his trusted older brother, meant more than Dean would ever know how to put into words.

Before this can turn into a highly embarrassing chick-flick moment, Kappi’s exuberant voice declares.

“WELL, I’d say my work is done for today. Let’s drink to that.”

She holds up her glass and the Winchesters scramble to collect their own clinking theirs against hers.

“Cheers, Boys, I think you might be on track now. Just promise _me_ that you come back to me or call me before it gets this bad again?”

“How about we don’t _let_ it get to that point?” Dean asks with a chuckle. “I’d say neither one of us is crazy about a repeat performance on this one.”

“I second that. At least not any time soon.” Sam agreed and rakes his hands through his hair, straightening up in his seat and rewarding their hostess with a brilliant smile.

“That sounds good to me, but at least call me _any_ time you need _any_ thing, ok? I’m right here and happy to help.” Kappi returns his smile with an open and inviting expression on her kind face.

“Now _that_ offer we can promise to take you up on.” Dean grins at Kappi and reflects that he _does_ like her, just like Sam predicted, and he can see himself calling on her for help again. “Now, I think we’d better hit the road if we wanna make any headway.”

They leave Kappi with more promises to stay in touch and deep-felt thanks. 

\--------------------------------------------------

Their good moods persist as they get on the road with Dean behind the wheel. Their conversation flows easily from Lisa and Ben to possible future plans to past shared hunts and family anecdotes.

It still surprises Dean when Sam suddenly asks, seemingly out of the blue.

“ _Soooo_ , why Thor?”

Sam’s voice is carefully neutral, almost bored, but Dean’s Spidey senses jump to life and his brain kicks into overdrive. ‘ _What the hell? Oh….right…..earlier….”_

“Huh?” He asks in the same casual tone, feigning confusion.

“Why’d you tell Ben this morning, I’d put on my Thor outfit?” Sam glances at him curiously, eyes tightening at the corners, like a cat focusing on a mouse it’s about to pounce on. Dean feels like he’s caught in a flashlight beam.

“Do you _have_ a Thor outfit? Somethin’ you forgot to tell me?” Dean tries to deflect the question with sarcasm but he can feel a traitorous flush rise up his neck. _Shit!_ He shifts in his seat unconsciously turning slightly away from Sam.

“Whadda ya think?” Sam’s mouth pulls into a smirk when Dean’s incredulous eyes shoot to his for a second before returning to the road. He continues.

“’Course not. But I was just wondering….why _Thor?”_ Sam has no intention of letting this go, too intrigued with his brother’s sudden discomfort.

“Dunno, just popped into my mind.”

“Thought you were more a DC kinda guy, with your preference for Batman and all.” Sam prods further.

“Alright, geek boy, _now_ you wanna have a discussion about it? You coulda jumped in and helped me out when Ben was arguing the point that all DC characters are lame.” Dean’s fake outrage and bluster doesn’t fool Sam for a second. ( _What the fuck was going on?)_

“You did just fine without me, defending your own geek-dom.” Sam smiles at the memory of Ben and Dean animatedly discussing the pros and cons of the various superheroes, cherishing the fact that Ben brings out a rarely seen carefree side in his brother. “So, you not gonna answer my question?”

“Christ, Sammy. No reason. Just….drop it, ok?”

The fact that Dean has no glib comeback, no sarcastic retort and the added fact that his cheeks are now an unmistakable shade of pink, tells Sam more than any direct answer. Still, the exceptional opportunity to call his brother out on something he is embarrassed about is too delicious to let pass.

Sam turns slightly in his seat, slings his arm over the backrest and splays his legs a little, putting himself effectively on display for Dean before he challenges.

“Do you _want_ me to have a Thor outfit?”

Dean’s face gets even redder as he sputters.

“What? NO! Why’d you say that? Has nothin’ to do with….that’s not why…FUCK, Sammy.”

Sam throws his head back and busts out in a free, rolling belly laugh.

“’S ok, Dean. Don’t give yourself an aneurism over this. I’m just teasing.” He barks another laugh as Dean’s face slips into an embarrassed scowl. “Didn’t know you’d be into cosplay. Still don’t get _why_ Thor, though.”

“M’ not into cosplay. Totally leave that to dorks at Comi-Con or whatever.” Dean rubs a hand down his face as if to will it back to its normal color before he says in a gruff voice. "Just….ya know….when we saw that preview for the new Thor movie….I kinda….well, _you_ could totally pull that off.”

“Yeah?” Sam is surprised that his brother’s admission spreads through him like warm syrup.

Dean gestures vaguely with one hand at Sam as he appraises his little brother’s invitingly sprawled form with a quick glance.

“Well, you kinda…..like…with the arms and the chest…ya know….and the _hair._ ” Dean’s eyes slide up his brother’s body as the image of his fantastic musings mixes with the real thing in front of him. He suddenly loses his nervousness about the situation and grins. _(‘Fuck it….why not…?’)_

“Yeah, dude, you would make an awesome Thor. ‘S just fact. And _hot._ ” 

Sam laughs again, warm and happy in the knowledge that Dean would let go like this and share this little fantasy with him.

“Uh, thanks, I guess?” he grins back at his big brother, his own cheeks coloring slightly, but feeling emboldened by Dean’s statement. “Soooo….what’re we gonna do about it?”

Dean guffaws at that. “What, Sammy, now I gave you an idea? Hey, maybe we can ask the actor dude to borrow the suit?”

“You tell me.” Sam replies and knocks his knee into Dean’s playfully. “It’s _your_ fantasy. I might just be happy to play along.”

Dean lets a longer look linger on his brother’s gorgeous body sprawled out as much as possible within the confines of the front seat and he has the sudden urge to pull over and jump him right there. Given the fairly busy highway they are on, however, he restrains himself and teases instead.

“Would’ya let me play with your hammer?”

Sam licks his lips purposefully and his features turn sly.

“Hhhm, I can think of a coupl’a ways to hammer you good, man.”

Dean almost swallows his tongue at the idea, heat pooling low in his belly, but he keeps the tone light, trying desperately to concentrate on the road. ( _Need a diversion….)_

“Of course, if you were Thor I would have to fight off all the girly fans first…. They would totally love your hair….and your ass in the tight leather pants….and your….”

“Oookaaay, and the moment is gone!” Sam exclaims and gathers his long limbs back into a normal sitting position.

Dean cocks his head and grins. “We had a moment?”

“Oh, forget it, Jerk.”

Dean laughs again chest bursting with joy and good humor at the way they feel so comfortable and right together.

“Love you, too, bitch. Now how about some grub? ‘M starving.”

\---------------------------------------

After they finish lunch at the Moonshine roadside diner with what Dean declares is the best piece of blueberry pie he has ever had, and Sam’s busting out laughing at Dean’s blue-tinged grin, they are back on the road.

Full bellies and the mellow afterglow of a decent meal put the brothers into a more contemplative mood, which causes them to ride along in comfortable silence for a while.

Something is nagging at Sam, though, ever since this morning and he finally gives in to his urge to clear his mind.

“Hey?” Sam’s voice is soft so as not to startle Dean who seems deep in thought himself.

“Hey yourself.” Dean turns his head briefly to send a quick, warm smile his brother’s way. 

“So, I was just…..thinking.” Sam hesitates, suddenly unsure  if it’s wise to bring this up again. However, he knows that it puzzled him enough before that the thought will not simply let him go.

“What, Sammy?” Dean’s tone is open and calm.

“I was kinda surprised that you….didn’t slug me one or at least….fight against going to Kappi’s earlier.” Sam remarks in a quiet voice.

“Hhhm,” comes Dean’s noncommittal reply.

“I mean, I know how much you hate the… _psychic crap_.” Sam hooks air quotes around the last part. “So, I guess, I kinda expected…I dunno…push back?”

Sam isn’t sure what he is asking or what he’s after. In fact, he’s quickly becoming pretty sure it’s a colossal mistake to even go down this road, but before he can make a plan for a quick and painless retreat, Dean’s voice carries deep and firm over the engine noise and Sam’s racing thoughts.

“I _trust_ you.”

This simple statement completely floors Sam. _I trust you_. After all of the crazy shit they’ve been through over the past five years, all the lies, all the hiding, the broken promises, the fights and accusations, the monumental grey areas of how far they will go for each other and the often heart-breaking fallout and consequences of it all, these three sincerely spoken words feel like watching a life-giving sunrise after an endless and terrifying night. _I trust you_.  

Sam feels his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyes prick sharply, but he makes a concerted effort to clear the shock from his mind and look at his brother in wide-eyed surprise.

After a quick glance and another reassuring smile, Dean continues.

“Look, I know I’ve been kind of an ass about this stuff in the past, but I totally get how hard you worked on getting me back after Stull and I also get that Kappi was a big part of the solution. So, I guess, I kinda knew that you wouldn’t drag me back there for nothin’.’”

“You trust me.” Sam’s voice is small and almost reverent.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Dean looks over at Sam again, this time with a puzzled expression. “Always do. You _know_ that.”

“Actually….no, Dean.” Sam stares at his hands bunched in his lap and his voice is barely above a whisper. “I didn’t know that. Not for sure….or not….in a long time, I guess.”

“Whaddaya talking about?” The sight of Sam’s sad, defeated expression crushes Dean’s heart in a vice grip.   _Well, crap, maybe there is more to fix than just himself here. He should’ve guessed that Sam would hang on to the few brutally harsh words Dean had thrown at him ages ago, but never really meant…FUCK!_

When Sam doesn’t answer but only continues to stare at his hands, Dean makes a split second’s decision.

After a quick check of the mirrors, he slows the Impala and deftly pulls her off the road into an overgrown unpaved driveway where he stops and cuts the engine.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” Sam looks around and behind them in alarm trying to detect any danger or reason for his brother’s sudden stop.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Dean half-turns in his seat to face his brother following the urgent need to get his point across loud and clear.

“Then why’d ya stop? Are you ok?”  Sam is fidgeting in his seat both confused and apprehensive at the abrupt interruption of their conversation.

“Sam.”

“ ‘Cause, I can drive, if you don’t feel up to it,” he babbles on.

“Sammy, will you shut up and listen?” Dean reaches over and puts a hand over Sam’s, stopping its nervous track up and down his thigh, lacing their fingers together.

Sam goes completely still, eyes staring down at their intertwined hands, shoulders hunching a little, but he doesn’t say anything else.

Although Dean wishes that Sam wouldn’t all of a sudden look like a scared puppy waiting for a beating or the ghost of his six-year-old little brother bracing for another disappointment, he is also glad to get the next thing out without staring straight into his brother’s soul and seeing the hurt he has put there.

His voice comes out a little rougher than intended as he continues haltingly.

“Man…I know we had our share of ….. _issues_ ….. And I know I said a lot of….fucked up things….. when I was….angry ( _really, I was scared out of my head to lose you_ ). But I never stopped trusting you, not when it counted, not when shit was about to hit the fan and we were down to the wire. You _have_ to know that.”

He squeezes his brother’s hand trying to convey his belief in this simple truth. _Of course, he trusts Sam. Aside from Bobby, Sam is the **only** person on the planet he does trust implicitly, with his life, with the fate of the world._

Sam just sits there, unsure about how to respond as the sincerity in Dean’s voice washes over him, warms him and makes his doubts on the matter seem unsubstantial and silly. _Does he….know that? Well, yeah, probably. Does he really believe that Dean doesn’t trust him with the important things? No, not really. Or at least not on the whole. There’d been way too many moments in the past year where Dean’s actions were caring and had directly opposed the harsh words he’d thrown at Sam so long ago_.

Dean suddenly _has_ to see what Sam is thinking, can’t stand the possibility that he permanently broke something between them with a few careless words spoken in anger and fear.

He reaches out and gently lifts and turns Sam’s face to his as he leans in closer.

“Hey, Sammy, come on.” Dean’s eyes search his brother’s intently, willing him to understand. “You _know_ , I don’t mean half the shit I throw at you when I’m….when… there’s a chance I’ll lose you.” He can feel himself getting lost in his brother’s soulful stare that completely lays him bare and invokes his most basic instincts of protection and unquestioning love. “You believe me, right?”

Sam feels completely engulfed by his brother’s fierce spirit and outpouring of honest feelings, which crack the last of his self-doubt.

“Sure…I guess…I mean….” Sam’s eyes are so impossibly open and vulnerable that it raises a lump in the older brother’s throat. “Thanks, man, it’s just…..it’s good to hear. ‘M sorry, I got….weird about it.”

Dean’s smile is crooked as he continues to fight against the obstruction of his vocal cords.

“’S ok,” he murmurs and moves in even closer to Sam. “ ’M sorry, too. Now….” Dean’s lips brush Sam’s softly. “Lemme …show you…” He slides a hand behind Sam’s neck and pulls him in until their mouths connect more firmly. The kiss is slow and deep and languid and packed with so much significance and existential love from both of them that it has their heads spinning in no time. Sam clutches at Dean’s face, desperate to keep him, hold him, never let him get even an inch out of reach, while Dean’s hands grab a fistful of Sam’s hair and shirt front with the same feverish need. They let their mouths, tongues, lips and teeth express what they are so often unable to put into words and there is a bone-deep certainty between them that the other understands and feels the same way. _Love you. Need you. Can’t exist without you. Always be here for you. Got your back. Trust you. Promise._   After what seems like both hours and only seconds, with both of them half-hard and yearning for more, they finally slow and then stop, foreheads are leaning against each other and breaths coming quick and shallow. 

Dean’s hand smoothes a tangle of his brother’s hair back from his face and he feels it brush whisper soft across his own cheek. He chuckles a little breathlessly.

“Glad we had _that_ talk. We good?”

Sam nods bumping against his brother’s forehead and steals another quick kiss before he replies. “Yeah, we’re good. ‘S long as we _talk_ some more…later.”

The promise and demand in his brother’s tone send a trickle of liquid fire down Dean’s spine. “Fuck, little brother….we can _talk_ all you want…. _this_ way.” He smiles mischievously and runs his thumb over Sam’s lower lip eliciting a small hungry noise from him.

Laughing at the needy noise Sam just made, and then taking a deep breath of regret, Dean straightens up and lets his hands rest on Sam’s shoulders for a moment.

“Listen, Sammy, can we just let the past be the past and….move on? No sense over-thinking old fuck-ups when we’ve got new ones to hurtle towards. Whadda ya say?”  

Sam huffs out a laugh, “Yeah, maybe we can avoid that for awhile? Be nice to just….live a little first.” 

“Deal.” Dean agrees quickly, more than done with the topic and feeling convinced that they are completely and securely on the same page for once. He settles back in behind Baby’s wheel, starts the engine, puts the car in reverse, and pulls back onto the blacktop, while an almost dizzying sensation of uncharacteristic lightness spreads through him.

_‘This is a new start, a reset, a chance to take a different road. We’re not gonna fuck this up by dragging all the old shit with us.’_

Of course, they are both painfully aware that they won’t be able to ignore the past for long and can’t avoid dealing with the soul-crushing truth of Bobby’s death and Cas’ disappearance, but the brothers also understand that even that is just another challenge they will have to take on, figure out how to get through and hopefully be able to help each other bear…...later.

They continue their drive and after a few minutes of silence Sam realizes he still needs to clear his mind and his conscience over having basically tricked Dean into going to see Kappi. He picks up his earlier point.

"So, you think it helped? Going to Kappi’s, I mean.” His voice is filled with open curiosity.

“Yes,” Dean answers without hesitation. “Yes, I think it did.”

Just as Sam opens his mouth to speak, Dean hurries along. “Now mind you, I’m not sayin’ I’d make this a regular thing.” He shivers involuntarily at the memory of how intense it had been. “But…..it…..it made a few things really clear.”

“Yeah?” Sam doesn’t press for details, doesn’t need any, having felt most of his brother’s revelations directly in his own mind.

“Yeah.” Dean barks a laugh. “For one, it’s pretty fucking clear that I have a lot of shit to work through…..in my head….and I might….it’ll be hard, I guess, to break some of the old habits…..ya know?”

“Hhhm.”

“So, I guess, what I’m sayin’ is…..you gotta….kinda call me on my shit….when I slip.” Dean shoots a serious look at his brother, who his softly smiling down at his own hands.

“Okay, I will.”

“I _mean_ it, Sam.”

“I know.” Sam looks at Dean’s strong and stunning profile, marveling at the fact that they are able to have a conversation like this at all now when it would have consisted of only a couple of grunts and huffs and half-hearted threats and promises in the past. “Me, too.”

“Okay. Good.” Dean nods and presses his lips together in a hard line, before he says gruffly. “Don’t wanna go backwards.”

“Yeah, me neither.” Sam agrees and bumps his knee into Dean’s, keeping them connected.

Without looking at his brother Dean continues his thought.

“Just gimme a little time.” Dean’s leg presses briefly into Sam’s.

“All the time you need, Dean. Not going anywhere.”

“I know.”  

They drive on in comfortable silence for awhile, both sorting through the day’s events in their minds and feeling content with the outcome and new-found knowledge.

The warm certainty they found at Kappi’s - that their decision to embark on this new road together is right and their bond strong enough to support each other through anything thrown their way - has not faded with the growing distance from the healer’s house, but instead it blazes ever brighter and hotter inside them both.

Just a few weeks ago, when all plans for a future had been stomped out and the necessity for self-sacrifice and separation had become their only truth, neither Winchester had wasted a second to contemplate the what-ifs and could’ve-beens. This _was_ their life. This _had_ to be done. They had not questioned it or lamented the unfairness of it all.

Now, so much has changed and a new, fierce, protective sense of self is growing in both Winchesters.

_‘Goddammit, we’ll take what we can for however long we can and run with it. Live a little, be happy, be a family, create a new way of life for ourselves. We fucking deserve it. We’re overdue for it.’_

Sam looks at Dean who wears a wolfish grin, eyes sparkling intensely green.

“Fuck’em all, Sammy. It’s _our_ time.”  

Sam feels his brother’s defiance and love wash over him and ignite a fierce joy at being alive, being together and having something to look forward to.

He lets his head fall back as he lets out a exuberant whoop before turning to his brother and laughing.

“You and me against the world – like always!”

With that undeniable promise between them they race down the blacktop towards the next chapter in their lives….together.  

 

THE END….for now…..

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who's gone on a ride down "Roads of Discovery" with me!  
> This is by no means the end....I have a ton more ideas and scenes floating around in my head.  
> But it will take me a while to get the next part going. Don't give up on me....I promise to be back.  
> Until then, THANKS for all the love and support and encouraging comments.  
> I ALWAYS appreciate feedback! :)


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